(time may pass but longer than it'll last) i'll be by your side
by hecklesyeah
Summary: Lou Miller, player that she is, has always been careful never to become "the other woman." Never in her life did she think she'd have her photo plastered across the front page of numerous tabloids as a famous Hollywood actor's mistress.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Notes:** Hey there! This work is completely random and came to me just as I'm dying from trying to balance a full-time job, a part-time job, and working on my thesis. Yay for multi-chapter WIPs!_

_Anyway, this is primarily a fluff piece that aims to provide all the shippy goodness that the film failed to give us but if you've read any of my other works, you'd know the angst will come. Lou and Debbie are a no-brainer but the added character here was inspired by the Vogue Australia photoshoot that Cate and Chris had together (this is so sweet y'all, you gotta check it out if you haven't seen it) and the many posts on tumblr that have led to Chris Hemsworth being unofficially adopted by (part of) the fandom._

_Btw, the fic title (and all the chapter titles) comes from a 90s OPM song called "214" by a local band, Rivermaya. Give it a listen._

* * *

**Chapter 1: do the words i speak before you make you feel**

"Hey, Deb."

"Lou?" Debbie pauses before feeling a slight panic rise within. "Are you alright?"

"Deb—"

"What happened?"

"I'm _fine_, Deborah," Lou responds, fond exasperation as evident in her tone as her eye-roll.

"Then what's wrong?"

"Why do you always assume that something's wrong when I call you?"

"You never call when you're on the road."

"That's," Lou pauses, blinks. "Fair."

"And it's only been about three weeks since you left so you're either still in California or you cut your trip short and are on your way back. Regardless, you're technically still on the road."

"Well, you're not wrong."

"Uh huh. So tell me."

"Okay." Lou scuffs her shoes against the concrete. "I _am_ still in California. And I haven't burnt up from the heat, thanks for asking."

"You're stalling."

Lou huffs. "Right." She takes a deep breath, audible through the line.

"That bad?"

"No. Although, maybe yes. Well, not really."

"Out with it, Miller, you're not making any sense." She hears her partner mumble something incomprehensible. "I'm sorry, I thought you didn't speak Ukrainian?"

"ImayormaynothavebeensnappedbypaparazziandIneedNineBalltomakesuremyfaceisinnoneofthem."

"Baby. You do realize that as much as I love your accent, talking fast makes it so thick, right?" And then, patronizingly, as if she were talking to a child, she continues, "Can you speak a little more slowly for me?"

Lou groans, more out embarrassment for what she's about to say than anything. "I said, I may or may not have been snapped by paparazzi and I need Nine Ball to make sure my face isn't in any of the photos leaked online."

Debbie blinks, twice. "Right, of course. Just—" She laughs awkwardly. "Just one thing... Have you been living a double life while I was incarcerated?"

"I don't follow."

"Okay, let's put it this way… I didn't realize you were, uh, famous?"

Lou scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous, Debbie."

"Alright then, so the vultures had nothing better to—Oh. _Oh. _Okay, I just opened my browser and here you are on some suggested articles. I may have been in the slammer for nearly six years but I heard about him and his big break over four, five years ago. Harry Miller, overnight superstar, him. I get why they'd snap you. I mean, of course, seeing as you're practically _necking_ with Hollywood's favorite hunk. Not to mention father and _husband_!"

Gagging sounds flow through from Lou's side of the conversation. "First of all, that Oscar nomination _was_ well-deserved." Is that pride seeping through Lou Miller's voice? "But more importantly, that's disgusting. They just got the angle wrong—"

"Or right, if you wanna get as juicy as possible." Debbie teases. If the circumstances were any different, she'd be worried about Lou and how she must be feeling about having compromised her principles. But right now, she's having a field day because she's sure Lou would never willingly be the 'other woman', much less to a man.

Lou growls the way a petulant child would from frustration and it makes Debbie laugh. This is a side of her partner that nobody else is privy to.

"God, it was just a fucking hug."

"Mhmm, one that looks a little cozy. Like the kind you give someone you haven't…" Debbie trails off because that's when it clicks for her. "Seen in ages."

Lou, her generally aloof partner who is secretly tactile but only with the people she trusts enough to let into her space, physical or otherwise (jobs and marks notwithstanding when necessary). Lou, who has an all-female staff at her club, including security ("They're black belters and winners at no-holds-barred underground matches. It's always fun to see the assholes who underestimate them get put back in their place.") Lou, who has never shown the slightest bit of interest or attention to the male half of the population. That Lou, _her_ Lou…let a _man_ hug her. And furthermore, she's photographed _hugging back_.

Lou scoffs, "I was only nine weeks late because I took the scenic route with my bike this time instead of flying and yet this bugger acts like it's been years."

If Debbie isn't mistaken, a hint of fondness is creeping into Lou's tone. And there's yet another red flag.

_Nine weeks late._

This trip—her _annual _California trip that started a few years before the Becker incident—was planned, regardless of whether there was a heist or not. Suddenly, Debbie is slapped with the reality that her partner has had _at least_ five years, eight months, and twelve days to build a life of her own. _Without her_.

"Besides, it's not like he can complain; I'm staying for more than a week this year."

And she not only put off her plans when Debbie got parole, she also went right into Debbie's plan _like nothing happened_.

Like Debbie hadn't escaped from their "rough patch" nearly seven years ago for something with a bigger pay-out. Like Debbie's last words to Lou hadn't basically been for her to fuck off after she had warned her about how Claude Becker was too good to be true. Like Debbie hadn't gotten better treatment from the guards, better food from the prison cafeteria, and more lenient security with the contraband she distributed inside after Danny's second visit where he told her he'd talked to Lou. Like Debbie hadn't shut Lou down every year she's asked her to come with her on a road trip to—

Wait.

"You never told me your annual Spring trip was to LA."

"LA is _in _California. And I thought _you _were the American between the two of us."

"And you always joke about being off to visit a king. Is _he _the king you've been referring to?"

"…maybe."

"_Lou._"

Lou sighs. "Yes, Deb. His real name is Harold King."

She hums, and because she couldn't help herself, "How did he go from royalty to common folk, _Miller_?"

"Shut up, Ocean." Lou rolls her eyes and chooses not to answer the underlying questions of Debbie's joke. When she clears her throat, her voice is all business. "Deb?"

"What do you need me to do?"

"Nine. I've called all known numbers, no answer. Must be out—"

"With Veronica, yes. You know how she is with her little sister." A lull falls in their conversation as Debbie scrolls through article after article. "Looks like you don't have to worry. All I've seen so far were taken from behind."

Lou hums. "And what a beautiful behind." She smiles when Debbie's half-snort, half-laugh rings from the other line.

"Alright, I'll get Nine to comb through your fifteen minutes of fame, baby."

"Thanks, honey. Makes the criminal life a living hell."

"Oh? I heard you've gone straight."

"Never."

They chuckle at the double meaning. Debbie's laughter subsides into a soft smile at the implications. Lou hadn't been as active a criminal as she was (and is) with Debbie.

She did put up a legitimate business in her industrial yet vintage-style club that has French new wave art films as its backdrop – a design that is so distinctly Lou that Debbie found it endearing. Her first introduction to Lou's club made her feel the way she did upon entering the loft – high ceilings, wide spaces, mixture of classical and industrial architecture, littering of musical instruments, Lou's old yet well-maintained motorcycle ("You remember Hela, right? She's still my baby but I've kept her in mint condition, with a few upgrades, of course."), a torn-apart vintage car that apparently costs somewhere in a 6-digit range ("Galadriel. She's a '67 Maserati Ghibli, 4.7 series in the rare Avorio Santa Anita shade, and I'm _restoring_ her. She's a beauty, Deb, a real beauty."), and other (probably) illegally obtained sets of unused furniture, chain link and barbed wire surroundings…

Debbie initially thought she'd hate it for being a little too similar to prison but she found herself settling comfortably, like she was _home_ somehow. And when Lou told her that all of her things from _before _were safely kept inside _a room especially_ _for her_ in a place that screamed Lou Miller in every inch, it tugged at something in Debbie's chest.

"…Lou?"

"Hmm?"

"Is California still a standing invite?" Debbie's mouth ran faster than her brain did and she finds herself at a rather vulnerable state than she was used to. Lou had always invited her to join her California trips and only stopped when Becker came into the picture. So when nothing but Lou's breathing can be heard from the other side, Debbie closes her eyes and backtracks; she's missed her chance. "I mean it doesn't have to be—"

"Yes."

"Yeah?" Debbie schools her features, unwilling to let her smile change her nonchalant tone.

"You know it is."

"Next time?"

"_Always_, honey. Now get your pretty ass on the next plane."

**\- x -**

Debbie manages to keep her poker face in place when a custom rose gold Porsche 911 Turbo S Cabriolet pulls over in front of her at the airport. She blinks at how obnoxious the ride itself is, and yet somehow with Lou behind the wheel, it just works.

She smirks when she sees that the passenger seat was saved for her, with a huge golden retriever looking content in the backseat, trying to charm its way into her good graces with a tongue-out grin. Her eyes narrow from behind her shades but before she can say or do anything, Lou lifts her own sunglasses on top of her head and calls out to her.

"Hey, slowpoke."

She shifts her gaze to her partner. Sweet, beautiful Lou with her wide smile, wind-blown hair, suit jacket haphazardly thrown behind her seat, black lace peeking from beneath her vest and tie teasing just enough to entice her eyes to go lower—

_What?_ She blinks, hard, to shake herself from the onslaught of not completely unwelcome thoughts. That's when her gaze zeroes in on the recent addition to the alabaster skin on Lou's bicep. She noticed the ink on her first week back but with the rush of every step needed for the heist, she never got around to asking about it.

"Did I really drive all this way just to watch you stand there the whole day?" Lou asks with a tilt of her head.

Debbie rolls her eyes and finally wheels her suitcase closer, carefully setting it into the car. Once the car is in gear, she clears her throat. "Who's this guy?"

"Girl," Lou corrects. "Her name's Lucinda."

"Lucinda?" Debbie slowly enunciates every syllable to show her disapproval of the rather old-fashioned name.

Lou hums. "Lulu for short."

The dog barks almost happily at the mention of her name.

"Cute." Debbie snorts but she turns her head to the side to hide her smile.

"Eh, I like her brother better."

"She has a brother?"

"Yoyo."

"Yoyo," Debbie deadpans.

"Short for Yosemite."

"Of course, it is."

The dog whimpers then barks again before settling in silence.

Lou chuckles. "He bullies her all the time, like taking her bed and leaving her with his much smaller one." Debbie's brows furrow at this. "I know, he's an idiot. But he's incredibly protective of her, never lets anyone bully his little sister." She turns to Debbie with a small smile that effectively gets the point across when the latter's features instantly soften.

"Brothers," Debbie mutters, smile turning bittersweet.

Lou hums again, "Agreed." Debbie turns to her with a raised brow but she doesn't elaborate further.

"I've talked to Leslie, by the way."

"Already? I thought-"

"Yep. But she called because Veronica wouldn't shut up about it once she found out her sister knew this '_other woman_' personally." Debbie smirks when Lou inevitably groans. "She said, and I quote, 'Scrubbed every hint of her skinny ass. Nuh'n' left with her face or even profile on. She safe af.'" She reads straight from her phone. "Af? A-F? What even is AF?"

"Good," Lou sighs in relief, feeling every bone in her body sag from the release of tension. "That's good."

A veil of silence falls over the car ride for a long while, which Debbie spends stealing a few glances over at her partner so Lou ends up huffing.

"Just ask, Deb," she breaks the silence as she turns the car into a rather long, gravel driveway after nearly an hour of driving at near top speed. Debbie swears Lou drove that convertible almost as if it were her bike. Too bad it didn't come with the perk of having her arms wrapped around Lou's waist from behi- _What?_

"Alright, who is he?"

Lou chews on her lip, knowing exactly why she feels so nervous and yet unable to do anything about it. Once she's put the car on park in front of a mansion – a surprisingly unimposing one yet still a mansion, she turns to Debbie. "You're about to meet him." When the front door bursts open to matching squeals, Lou chuckles. "All of them."

Debbie raises her sunglasses to look more closely at the oncoming storm and suddenly, her eyes widen half in shock and half in panic. She wants to be mad at whatever this surprise is supposed to be but the sight of Lou leaning her head back on the headrest, carefree and laughing, makes her chest ache.

"Aunty Lou!" Identical twin boys of about three years old hurry over to the driver's side as Lou opens her car door.

"Hello, monkeys." She scoops them both up and lets them cling to her as she blows raspberries at their stomachs, eliciting squeals and giggles from both of them.

"What...the hell?" Debbie mutters under her breath as she slowly exits the car, gaze fixed on her partner – or should she say her partner's _look-alike_ because as far as she knows, Lou and children have never really mixed.

The dog—Lulu barks and jumps out of the car, prompting the children to ask to be put down.

"Yoyo missed you, Wuwu," says one rugrat.

"He's at the doo'!" Shouts the other who is running up the steps towards a rather fat...cat seated at the doorstep, looking royally annoyed while letting the dog lick him anyway before smacking her upside the head and walking back in.

Lou entering Debbie's field of vision while lugging her suitcase up the steps snaps her out of her trance-like state.

"Let me help you with that, babe."

"It's fine," Lou says but Debbie does so anyway.

"Mind telling me what's going on, _Aunty_ Lou?"

Lou opens her mouth to answer when the door is suddenly blocked by a behemoth of a man who proceeds to wrap his arms tightly around a groaning Lou.

"You really gotta stop doing that," comes Lou's muffled voice from the man's shoulder.

"Never," he simply says and squeezes tighter that Debbie worries for Lou's access to air.

"It's what got us into this mess in the first place." Lou finally escapes his hold when he reaches down to pluck the suitcase as if it weighed nothing. She rolls her eyes, muttering, "Show off."

He merely grins at Lou before turning to Debbie who is struggling to keep her surprise at their interaction in check. She notices him subtly look her up and down and yet it's oddly...okay. Because he's not leering or even just checking her out; he's sizing her up.

"Please, come in."

He carries – not wheels, carries – Debbie's suitcase to the side of the staircase before turning to them as Lou makes the introductions.

"Harry, this is Debbie, and Deb—"

The man—Harry perks up all of a sudden. "_The_ Debbie Ocean, of course. Heard a lot about you."

"Really?" Debbie raises an eyebrow at Lou who simply shrugs to indicate that he knows _enough._ "That's funny, I've never heard about you before today, celebrity status aside."

Lou looks to the side, composing herself before answering, but Harry beats her to it with a hand on his chest, "I'm hurt, _Louann_. I thought you were my mistress?"

Lou punches his side which makes him erupt into a fit of giggles so similar to the little boys' earlier that it was slightly disturbing yet oddly endearing.

Debbie clears her throat and starts with eyes narrowed but no less sharp. "So, Mr. _Miller._"

Lou crosses her arms and huffs, a cross between fond and exasperated because she expected this from her partner. "Deb—" She begins to protest but a large hand settles gently on her elbow to calm her – a movement that did not go unnoticed by sharp, chocolate eyes, especially after the hug she'd witnessed.

"It's fine, let her." Comes a response from a low voice that could melt butter. But more than its near-crooning quality, the thick accent shocks Debbie even if she manages to hide it, especially since she missed it earlier. The kids' accents were the same.

Australian. Much heavier than Lou's, probably because Lou's left her hometown and home country along with her teenage years. The films Debbie's seen of his always had him speaking in a British accent and assumed he hailed from the UK. Rookie mistake. And an absolute game changer.

Lou has always been proud of her Australian roots – her accent, her quirks, her criticism of almost everything American – since she's met her. But the one time they got drunk enough to start talking about the skeletons in their respective closets, Lou talked about growing up with an abusive father who took it out on his only child – a child who, in his eyes, killed his wife during childbirth – until his death sent 8-year-old Lou into foster care where she went through a series of homes, settled at one in her teens, and spent the next few years working herself to death to save up for a plane ticket. And in their time as partners, which was pretty much spent together since their first meeting, Lou might stop to admire anything representative of Australian culture and have a collection of trinkets that reminded her of her birth country. But she has never associated with anyone from Australia. And that just fuels the burning questions in Debbie's mind.

_Who the hell is Mr. Blue Eyes? _And more importantly, _who is he to Lou Miller?_

* * *

_**AN:** I'm sure most of you already know who he is in Lou's life but it felt like a good time to cut the chapter. I've already outlined the next three at least so hopefully, I'd get to update regularly. The other girls might make an appearance but I can't say for sure so I'll update the tags as I see fit._

_All mistakes are mine. Comments are welcome, here or on tumblr (same name)._


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Notes: I wasn't planning on updating yet but I finished a work deadline early and I think I did pretty well so as a reward, I made time for this. But don't get used to it; I make no promises about future updates except that I will finish this. _

_Btw, this is a character-driven fic so if you're looking for significant plot points, this may not be for you. I'd still appreciate your insights tho!_

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**Chapter 2: that the love i have for you will see no ending**

"I understand you're at a bit of a disadvantage here. I know about you, you know nothing about me, and all that. So why don't we head out to the porch to talk? It's a beautiful day out. I'll just get the twins ready for a swim and I'll be right with you." He disappears through the double doors but not even five seconds pass before his head pokes back in. "I've prepared sandwiches, by the way. And Lou knows where the drinks are; pick your poison."

Debbie chews on the inside of her cheek as she surveys the options laid out in front of her. "So when he said 'pick your poison', was he just trying to be a cool dad to a bunch of underage drinkers or does he have an aversion to alcohol?" She watches Lou quietly sipping on her sparkling water, waiting for her to answer when a splash resounds from outside the house followed by squeals of laughter. "Right, he _is _a dad."

She's about to settle for her own sparkling water when Lou reaches past her to press a hidden button. Not a second later, the display case of non-alcoholic drinks slides open up to reveal the good stuff.

"There's a wine cellar if you'd prefer a bottle."

"Fancy."

Lou nods, "Custom-made."

"Smart too, hiding all this from the kids."

Lou shifts uncomfortably before clearing her throat and meeting Debbie's eyes. "Not from the kids."

"Hmm?" Debbie tilts her head, brows slightly furrowed.

"He doesn't know I know about this." Lou pauses, swallows the sudden lump in her throat. "I should be annoyed that he went to such great lengths but given the circumstances, it's sort of…sweet."

"What circumstances?" Debbie asks and Lou desperately wants to avoid this conversation but she knows she can't avoid it forever. "Lou? What are you saying?"

Lou keeps her gaze on Debbie even as it veers towards desperation, silently pleading that Debbie understand her without having to hear her say the words out loud. When Debbie merely blinks at her, eyes wide with concern, she opens her mouth but the words won't come out. So she reaches for her back pocket instead, flipping the coin along her fingers before tossing it over to Debbie who catches it easily and drags her eyes from Lou's to look at it. Debbie feels her chest constrict at the sight of the bronze coin and runs her thumb along the Roman numeral IV embossed right at the center.

"I got it a few months before you got out," she finally speaks.

"Lou, I… I didn't know."

"No one did. Except for him and his wife. And Tammy-"

Debbie frowns. "Tammy?"

Lou got along well enough with Tammy back when they were still a trio, short-lived as that time might've been, but they were never what you would consider close, just the two of them. And there was no indication of a changed relationship throughout the course of the heist, except maybe Lou's hesitation at dragging Tammy back into their world. She had initially thought it was because she was aloof about their friend and her abrupt retirement (not) from the world of crime despite her clearly being the best at what she does. Perhaps Debbie had been wrong. And this definitely calls for a discussion and a close observation of their interactions from now on.

"She checked up on me. Regularly whether I wanted her to or not, breezed back into my life just like that. It's how I met her kids, actually. She made sure I was doing alright in your...absence." Lou answered but she wouldn't meet Debbie's eyes while talking about Tammy, choosing instead to hop onto the counter a foot or two away. There has to be more to the story there but just before Debbie could ask, Lou suddenly adds, "Oh, and Constance knows too."

"_Constance_?!" Debbie's disbelief was unmistakable.

"That—" Lou cringes a little. "That was an accident, and the reason I found her easily despite the turnover in pickpockets. Anyway, a story for another time."

_Two _stories for another time, Debbie mentally notes.

"Is that why you got that new tattoo?" At Lou's surprise, she explains, "I committed it to memory the first time I saw it so I could figure out what it meant."

"And?" Lou asks, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips because that was such a _Debbie _thing to do.

"Ethanol, the only kind safe to drink."

_Safe, _Lou thinks, _is relative. _But she nods slowly. "And this," she pauses, pointing at her tattoo. "Is the only one that will ever touch me again."

"Lou…" Debbie starts but trails off, unsure how to proceed. "What about all the celebratory drinks we've had with the girls?"

"I was always the one opening bottles and pouring drinks; apart from Tammy, no one really paid attention to whether I was actually drinking or not. Cons too, even if she tried to be stealthy about it." Lou huffs but there was no hint of ire. "Tammy's just… That woman can multitask like crazy, even when she's toeing the line between tipsy and drunk."

"Is that even safe? Being around people who are drinking? Or are drunk? Or being around alcohol in general?" She doesn't even realize she's moved to put herself between Lou and the alcohol cabinet.

"I know it's not. But oddly enough, I don't get triggered."

"Oh, no. Baby," Debbie starts, pausing because— "You own a _club_."

With a shrug, Lou dismisses the point. "I don't have to buy a drink to get in."

"Or drink the ones you buy. Oh wait, they're always bought _for_ you." Debbie smirks, trying to lighten the mood. She had the uncanny ability to turn it on and off for marks. But with nearly two decades of _Lou _under her belt, she's been made witness to how Lou's appeal knows no bounds, even to men who couldn't take a hint.

"Believe it or not, I don't do that anymore." Debbie simply raises an eyebrow. "I don't."

"Since when?"

"I don't know, couple of years?"

Debbie studies her, unsure what to make of this revelation. Her partner, a reformed player? "Guess a lot really did change while I was gone."

"Not the things that matter."

_Like what? _The question was at the tip of Debbie's tongue but she wasn't sure she was ready for the answer. Instead, she asks, "Do you miss it?"

"I did, for a long time. Especially whenever I itched for a glass or a bottle." Her brows furrow momentarily before she smiles at Debbie. "But not in the last few months."

Debbie smiles, proud of and moved by her partner's determination, and presses the button to close the hidden compartment of alcohol. She walks over to the counter where Lou was seated. Bumping her hip against Lou's right knee, Debbie raises a hand towards her partner's bicep and tilts her head in silent question. Lou swallows a sip of water, gaze never leaving Debbie's, before nodding and watching Debbie begin to lightly trace her tattoo with a fingertip.

"It looks like an H."

"Hmm?" She tilts her head one way and then another. "I never thought of that."

"Oh, really? I just thought you needed some ink to remind you whose mistress you were."

"Well, if I needed to remember _him_," Lou pauses, slowly pulling off the biggest of all the rings on her fingers and raises her hand for Debbie to see a grayish mark. "I wouldn't need a new one," she finishes, because the somewhat faded mark on the now-naked finger is undeniably an **H**.

Debbie blinks, twice, before taking the raised hand in one of hers and letting her gaze shift back to Lou's. "Tell me who he is."

"He's—"

"There you are! I thought for a second you two drowned while getting drinks."

"We could've, considering the amount of booze you've got hidden under there," Debbie lets Lou's hand drop on her own lap as she gestures to the case behind her with a thumb over her shoulder.

When Harry sputters, clearly caught off guard, Lou twists her torso enough to look at him, her shoulder gently bumping Debbie's. "Before you ask, I found out during my first visit after you had it installed over three years ago. You can't con a con, King."

He pouts, "I'm an actor, I'm practically a con artist."

"Keep telling yourself that."

He watches as Lou slides down from the countertop and gives him a pointed look that makes him fidget, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh… I didn't hide it because I didn't trust you, you know? I just-"

"Hey, stop that." Lou's voice was sharp, cutting, but her face was the opposite and Debbie couldn't help feeling like she was becoming witness to something private. She's seen this Lou before, but she's never seen it come out for anyone other than herself. "I didn't even think of that when I found out."

"I just didn't want to parade them around when you were...struggling." He drops heavily onto the nearest chair.

"I know, darling. It was a sweet sentiment but I'm fine. I haven't had a drop since _that night_. Now, enough of that, you big lug." Lou walks over to him and raises his chin to get him to look at her. "I'll go check on your boys, make sure they're in two pieces when Sally gets back."

She ruffles his hair like one would a child's and laughs when, as usual, he leans into her touch like a needy puppy instead of pulling away.

That very image jars Debbie enough to leave her mind blank for a few seconds after Lou disappears, so much so that the first thought that comes to mind is, "Really? His wife's name is Sally?"

"She hates that name, and that When _I _Met _Her_ reference."

"Shit. Did I—"

"Ask that out loud? Yes, you did." He gives her a kind smile that oddly reminds her of Lulu, tongue out and enjoying the wind from the backseat. "Lou's the only one who gets away with calling her that, not even me. Otherwise, it's just Sal."

"Right," Debbie absently replies. All of these revelations have gotten her more than a little off-kilter.

Harry watches her pull at the label on the bottle of sparkling water in her hands and notices her gaze locked on the counter beside it. Upon standing up, he sees Lou's coin and turns his wide eyes back to the woman in front of him. He knows who she is, _what _she is to Lou, probably even better than Lou does. But he also knows, even without Lou saying, that she was part of the reason Lou fell into the hole she'd long crawled out of. So regardless of whatever comes out of the friendship between these two women, his top priority will always be Lou.

"Now that you know, do you look at her differently?" The cross between offense and sheer panic that greets him seconds before her features are schooled into near indifference makes him think that maybe Lou wasn't in this alone. But he needs to be sure.

"It's funny, I was locked up for nearly six years with nothing much to do but _plan _my next move and think about how to adjust to the changing world but it never crossed my mind that Lou would...change along with it. But I would gladly start over, learn _Lou_ all over again."

She didn't want to be talking about this to a stranger but this man means something to Lou and it seems if there is a person in this world who will put Lou first, it's him.

_And me_, Debbie decides right then and there.

"I didn't plan about Lou because every single plan I came up with had her standing right beside me. The one constant. _My _one constant. And maybe this time, I could be hers."

"You were," he said, just above a whisper. "But then you left."

She shakes her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I'm not the same person I used to be. I'm not going anywhere, not when I'm finally home."

The meaning behind her words is not lost on him, even if he's unsure she's fully aware of it herself. He's happy to hear this, but he'll always look after Lou now that he can. Just like she did for him all those years ago and every year since.

"I'll hold you to that," he nods and offers his hand for her to shake. And when she does, his mood lightens up almost instantly. "So... Sun, sandwiches, and swimming pools?"

"Sure," she answers with the corner of her lip curling up. He's already by the door when she stops him. "Just, uh… Just one more thing" she laughs awkwardly before her expression turns serious. "Who are you?" He simply blinks. "To Lou. Who are you to Lou?"

He grins, "I'm her brother."

* * *

_A/N: For people expecting more of Harry, be patient. And also keep in mind that while he's a character I'd like to explore, this is still primarily a Loubbie fic. _


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Notes: Here's where the fluff starts building up before some angst and backstory come in. I don't know where this is going quite yet but I have till about a 7th chapter outlined and I wanted to get this out there instead of letting it rot among my files. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!_

* * *

**Chapter 3 - if you look into my eyes then you should know**

"Oh, yes, of course." Debbie says, nodding, but then she crosses her arms. "Except, Lou doesn't have a brother. She's an only child based on the birth certificate I helped her get."

"Aye." Harry shrugs. "But family isn't just about blood. Look at you, you're her family too."

With a shake of her head, she reasons and almost mocks, "But I'm not her _sister_."

"No," Harry chuckles. "You most certainly are not."

Debbie scoffs. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Harry just looks at her. "Nothing. But I assure you, I have no intentions of taking your place in her life. Not that anyone could, even if they tried." When Debbie frowns in confusion, he continues, "Look, Lou can be the most closed-off person when she wants to be – and she almost always does – but she's got a big heart. And once you're in it, you're in forever."

That makes Debbie pause. Because Lou _is _exactly like that. One minute, she's an open book and the next, she's a brick wall. She's always kept Debbie on her toes and that's part of why Debbie couldn't leave her if she tried the first time they met. Plus, she's fiercely loyal as a friend or partner or what have you. Which is more than could be said about Debbie over six years ago.

"She'll kill me, by the way, if she found out I said that about her." Harry scratches behind his ear like a dog probably would. "Although I suspect you already know all that."

Debbie studies him for a while before nodding. "I do."

Harry sighs. "I know you're not one to be hurried or coerced into anything; she said that about you. But she's my sister and I love her. I have since that day she carried me into the infirmary and let me cling to her arm, soaking her shirt with my tears while they cleaned my skinned knees. And-"

Debbie's jaw fell open. "That was you?"

"You know about that?"

"She told me about a tiny kid that reached just about up to her knees who was…" She trailed off, trying to remember the exact details but comes up with nothing.

"Pushed off a swing by some bullies? Yeah, she's been my hero since she fended them all off for little old me."

That got her attention. "She never told me that part. Just that there was a kid."

"Ah," he replies, rubbing his chin. "She never did like taking credit. But she did, and got a few scratches herself in the process."

Debbie nods absently. "Were you living in the orphanage with her?"

"No, I was just a kid playing in the park alone." He laughs a little at the memory. "It was a small town and I became the target of bullies because I was tiny for a four-year-old. After my father died, it got worse, especially since my mother had to start working two jobs to make ends meet. She used to work at a diner right across the park so she could watch me from the window. She panicked when she couldn't find me but then Lou carried me back and told her about what had happened, she was just grateful. Lou had just turned 14, we were 10 years apart, and out of all the kids in and out of the orphanage, she chose me to look after." He shakes his head, smiling. "Eventually, she ran away from the orphanage and stayed with us. She started to work and help my mother. And since she was tall for her age and looked old enough with makeup on, employers either didn't care that she was underaged or just looked the other way."

"Didn't the orphanage look for her?" Debbie asks with a deep frown. A 14-year-old runs away and no one thinks to look and wonder if she's even okay?

"No. They always thought she was a trouble child, troubled _and_ caused trouble since she came into their care at age 8. They thought she was mute at first because she wouldn't speak and would flinch whenever anyone came close. She was bullied there and they did nothing. Even when they knew what she's been through her whole life from her extensive medical records."

Debbie notices the white-knuckled grip Harry had on the corner of the counter. "How did she get here from Australia? She just told me she booked a plane and never looked back."

"My mother asked her what she wanted to do for her 20th birthday and she said she wanted to travel. Mom thought that after everything Lou's been through, the Statue of Liberty was a fitting destination. So she saved up some of the money Lou's given her and bought her a plane ticket to New York. She left on her birthday and got there, still on her birthday; two different continents on the same day. Cool, huh? I didn't think so at the time. I was turning 11 and I started to grow tall and confident. I had a solid group of friends but I was going to miss my sister, my best friend. So I cried like I was that little boy who was pushed off a swing again."

Debbie's eye twitches, feeling a cross between uncomfortable and somewhat...proud? A grown man, Hollywood's favorite hunk, being so in tune, open, and expressive with his emotions is certainly not something you see every day. The exact opposite of Lou, but not really.

"But even after she left, she kept in touch. Every 14th of the month at 9:30pm, a half hour before my bedtime back then and she never once missed a phone call; every 20th of the month, she'd send us money, more than enough for a month's rent. And she never forgets my birthday." He chuckles. "She would send some of the most ridiculous things she could find of what Americans thought Australian culture was and to this day, her birthday gifts are still the best."

Memories of Lou sneaking tiny, odd, and practically useless trinkets everywhere they went flashes in Debbie's mind and suddenly, it all made sense. Lou disappearing briefly at times only for Debbie to find her on the phone, talking quietly and, now that Debbie looks back on those phone calls, affectionately. Lou automatically setting a portion of her cut away, saving up for what Debbie used to assume was a surprise for her – because Lou always did come up with the best surprises – but apparently was for a family she kept so closely to her chest that she neglected to mention their existence even to her partner.

"This routine never stopped even when I had met the woman who would be my wife or when I got married. Not even after mother died and my wife and I migrated here twelve years ago, or when my career started and then kicked off. The only thing that changed was that I get to see her every year on the week of my birthday." He finishes his story with the goofiest grin Debbie has ever seen on a grown man. "Best gift ever!"

She's silent for a while, taking it all in. "It's not that I don't appreciate you telling me all this but," she pauses, clears her throat. "_Why_ are you telling me this?"

He relaxes considerably. "Because I shouldn't be the only one who knows all of her. And since you're here, that means she's willing to let you into this part of her life. Something she's never done with anyone else before."

The weight of this revelation is not lost on Debbie and she'd be damned if she took it—took _Lou_ for granted again. Oddly enough, it's what prompts her to say, "I'm sorry." Something she's yet to say to Lou herself.

Harry tilts his head. "About what?"

"She was late this year because of me."

"Oh, yes. I'm still sore about that, by the way." He playfully sniffles as he turns his head away. "But she did promise to stay at least twice as long and to let us come for a visit later in the year so, all's well. Meeting you was certainly a bonus."

The corner of Debbie's lips lifts. "Right back at you, big guy."

"Yes, I have grown considerably since being a wee at around Lou's knees, thank you very much."

When they finally decide to join the party outside, it's to the sight of Lou emerging from the pool in a black mesh rashguard suit covering all the necessary bits to stay child-friendly but everything about it—about _her_ is enticing nonetheless. Her midriff is visible through the sheer material showing off part of a tattoo that disappears beneath the material around her hips. The zipper securing the suit is hanging deliciously by her cleavage, and her long, endless legs are on full display.

This is not the first time Debbie's seen this much skin on Lou – and she has definitely seen more – but she doesn't realize she's holding her breath, staring with her mouth hanging slightly open, until she hears a low voice from behind her.

"Breathe." She covers up her reaction with a scowl but Harry simply chuckles. "Not a lot of pools in New York, I take it?" Then he walks away with a smug expression she wants to slap off his face.

When she turns back to Lou, her partner is already making her way towards her while running a towel absently through her hair. Debbie follows the movement of the towel for a moment before her gaze dips lower and lower—

"Deb?" Lou's voice snaps her out of the daze she so willingly went into. "You okay?"

"Hmm?"

"I asked if you were alright." Lou tilts her head, studying Debbie. "Too much sun for your taste?"

_Too much skin_, is what goes through Debbie's mind followed closely by, _and yet not enough._

"No, it's a welcome change, actually." She replies, then her smile turns mischievous as she steps almost right into Lou's personal space and fiddles with the zipper on her swimsuit. "So is this, by the way," she adds and playfully gives the zipper a tug while wiggling her eyebrows.

When she tears her gaze away from the zipper (and what it's hiding) and up to meet Lou's, she notices how the normally pale blue of her eyes has turned into a dark grayish blue that pulls her in. But then Lou blinks and she's left wondering if she's imagined the heat that came with it.

"Did you bring a suit?"

With an eye-roll, she steps back. "You know I don't own one."

"I do," Lou hums and reaches for a paper bag by the side of the table. "Got you a few options on the way to the airport."

She sees hints of gray, black, and deep burgundy with a flash of ecru with lace details when she peeks into the bag. "Are these tasteful?"

"Honey, you know me," Lou winks. "Besides, there are children present. Along with a big baby," she adds loud enough for everyone else to hear.

"I heard that!" The _big baby _shouts from the other side of the pool, much to the delight of his sons, if the giggling from the children happily swimming around with floaters were any indication.

"You were meant to," Lou throws over her shoulder before she turns back to Debbie. "Go on, get changed. We'll be here when you come out." She swipes another sparkling water from the ice box by the pool and downs it; it seems entertaining the boys under the sun has drained her.

When Debbie finally comes out, she couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed to see Lou's back turned to her as she sits on the poolside with her legs in the water. She had wanted to make an entrance like she always does but she'll have to make the most out of the situation so she brings out the tray of sandwiches that Harry mentioned earlier and deposits them on the table before she grabs one to offer to Lou.

"Here you go, baby."

Lou turns to see a sandwich almost shoved against her cheek and her gaze follows it up Debbie's arm to her face, which Debbie is shielding with her free hand, before shamelessly running down her body. As Lou predicted, she had chosen to wear the deep burgundy suit with criss-cross detail down the cleavage and up the sides, showing just enough skin to leave one wanting more—and god does she want more—with the lace cover-up hanging precariously from her shoulders.

"Up to your standards?"

Lou's mouth twitches but it is with every ounce of truth that she says, "Always," before looking away.

Debbie's triumphant smile turns a bit bashful at that so she bumps Lou's temple with the sandwich. "Eat, woman," she scolds fondly. "I'm guessing you'd foregone a few meals again while on the road."

"I eat when I'm hungry," she rolls her eyes even as her tone veers towards defensive.

"I know, but you _should_ eat. Regularly. And by that, I mean at decent intervals." Debbie coaxes, crouching down at Lou's 4 o'clock.

She finally nibbles on the sandwich, mumbling, "Too much of a hassle."

"Says the woman who's kept me well-fed for about two decades, jail time counted—I know you bribed Barb." Lou starts to protest but Debbie points her finger accusingly. "Don't even try to deny it. She didn't just give me decent serving sizes of the best options, she even started slipping me vitamins!"

"I will neither confirm nor deny your accusations."

Debbie rolls her eyes. "How do you remember to feed me and not yourself?"

Lou purses her lips, more out of fond exasperation than real annoyance. "I might have been the cook, but you reminded me to eat."

"Did I?"

"Yes, because when you're hungry, you get either pouty, whiny, grumpy, or all of the above for seemingly no reason at all."

Debbie scoffs, "I do not!"

"Yes, you do." Lou just nods. "I cooked preemptively."

"You are a lying liar who lies."

"Ooh, someone's getting whiny." Lou teases which causes Debbie to frown. "And there's that pout. Maybe you need this sandwich more than I do?"

"I will get my own, thank you very much." Debbie huffs, realizing she actually _is_ hungry, and stands up to snag a sandwich for herself before settling down beside Lou and letting her legs fall into the cool water. She glances briefly at the man and his twins before she studies Lou from the corner of her eye.

That's when she finally notices the black fluffball settled on Lou's lap, sharing the bits of sandwich that she lets him lick off her fingers. The cat rolls over slightly and reveals a wide patch of white fur on his chest.

"I'm guessing this is Yoyo?"

"It is."

"And you're feeding him more than he should eat?"

Lou's eyes narrow when she almost defensively says, "He's hungry."

"He's fat."

"He's _cute_."

"Right. Let me guess, you can't say no?"

"…maybe."

Debbie just shakes her head. Typical Lou. All gooey underneath the tough exterior, especially with people (and animals) that need protection.

"I'm surprised we don't have our own pets in the loft."

Lou shrugs. "I didn't know if you'd want pets."

Debbie blinks in surprise. It seems Lou has planned her life to accommodate Debbie and suddenly, she's torn between wanting to kiss her senseless and kneeling before her in worship. Not that the two are mutually exclusive, nor should they be. But she brushes the thought away as it occurs to her.

"I found this little guy," Lou says suddenly. "He was scavenging outside the club one night. He was so sickly with patches of fur burnt off, I don't even want to think of how, so I fed him." The cat purrs when Lou rubs his chin and belly, sandwich all gone between the two of them. "And then he kept coming back so I started making room for him there and, eventually, in the loft. I brought him here when I visited and the kids just loved him. I couldn't take him back."

"May I?"

"Go on, he doesn't bite."

"Oh, unlike you?" Debbie almost hightails it when the words unexpectedly come out of her mouth but she sticks it and reaches over to pet the cat, unwilling to meet Lou's eyes.

Lou's mouth twitches in barely concealed amusement. Then she hums, as close to a moan as she could muster, and with a low voice, adds, "Has a tendency to scratch though."

Lou makes sure she has Debbie's attention when she eyes Debbie's perfectly manicured fingernails before slowly dragging her gaze back up into her eyes. She deliberately indulges the flirtation, fully aware of the memories her statement brings up, and shamelessly smirks at Debbie who immediately goes pink from her chest up to the tips of her ears.

"He told me some things. Your, uh," Debbie clears her throat. "Brother."

"Interesting subject change. But yes," Lou turns her gaze to a snoozing Yoyo. "I figured."

"And you're okay with that?"

"I asked you here, didn't I? I wanted you to know. Even before..." She trailed off.

Debbie looks down at her lap at that. _Before_. "Now that I do, are you regretting your decision?"

Lou's eyebrows furrow when she turns to look at Debbie. "Why would I?"

Debbie looks intently at Lou's eyes, looking for a sign of...anything but what she finds there has her swallowing and ducking her head again. "How much does he know?"

"About us?" Debbie's head snaps up right before Lou adds, "What we do?"

"Right."

Lou shrugs. "Enough. He offered to get me out, give me the life we're trying to," she pauses, looking for an appropriate word. "_Take_ and build when he found out."

It's Debbie who frowns this time. "And?"

"And I told him I wasn't doing it for the money; I have the club for that."

Debbie swallows the last of her sandwich and clears her throat. "What are you doing it for then?"

_You_, Lou wanted to say as she looks deeply into Debbie's eyes. But that wasn't entirely true. She's been working cons since she was in Australia and she'd gotten much better at it, fending for herself in the US. She was getting by; she didn't even need to keep the bartending job she had back then but she did because it provided a steadier income and access to drunk patrons who paid little to no attention to their valuables. It also eventually led to a meeting that changed her life forever.

_#_

_"__You're good at that. But I suspect you could do much better," the brunette whispers, letting her breath fan across Lou's neck. She's about to feign innocence but then lips brush against her ear, making her shiver. "I'll meet you outside," she says with a wink and walks out the door, hips swaying hypnotically._

_Lou blinks, dumbstruck and a little disbelieving because women dig her and her style but never has one ever made the first move like that and, subtly cupping her back pocket, not a single one of them has been as bold. Lou's pulled back to reality when a voice speaks up from beside her._

_"__My, my, how the tables have turned."_

_She turns to see Eric, the bar manager who has become more like a cool uncle to her now after nearly a year of working for him (in the club that she'd end up buying for herself in the future). He's a good guy but the smirk he's sporting has her narrowing her eyes at him._

_"__What?"_

_"__I've seen just about every woman, and occasional man, who's come through that door fall for your charms. And those that didn't? I'm pretty sure you've made them question themselves. But this? This is an absolute first time." When Lou just frowns in confusion, he shakes his head. "Well, what are you still doing, standing there like a fish outta water? Go after her!"_

_Lou blinks at him and absently says, "I'm not off for another three hours."_

_"__Nope. You're off now. I'll take over your shift. Now go get your woman."_

_She finally comes out not five minutes later, pulling on her leather jacket, and spots the same brunette half leaning and half sitting on her bike._

_"__That's mine," she says with a low voice as an opener. She may have been thrown off earlier but she's adaptable and she's definitely intrigued._

_The brunette simply shrugs. "Lucky guess."_

_Lou snorts, "I don't think so."_

_"__Oh?"_

_"__Something tells me you know exactly what you're doing. Your actions are calculated." Lou gives her a once-over. "Including this," she adds, raising the wallet that the brunette slipped into her back pocket earlier._

_The brunette's playful expression turns into a smirk. She's impressed but she won't show it. Yet. "Opened it yet?"_

_Lou's eyes narrow before she glances down at the now-open wallet in her hands. A few hundreds there, some cards… But she doesn't pay much attention to those because there, opposite a Mr. Lawrence Simpson's driver's license, lies a card that's empty save for two words smack dab in the middle. _Deborah Ocean.

_She could tell from Lou's expression that she recognizes her name and knows what her family is notorious for. And more importantly, she looks cautious but nonetheless impressed. So she straightens up from the bike she was leaning on and walks the remaining steps between them until she's a foot away and extends her hand._

_"__I'm Debbie."_

_Lou stares at the outstretched hand before she looks away to hide her smile. "Lou."_

_#_

Lou leans into Debbie's personal space, almost into a kiss, but then suddenly turns her head to the side to whisper, "Because it's what I'm good at." And just like that, she pulls away and jumps into the pool, deliberately splashing Debbie in the process.

"Louann Ilithyia Miller!"

"Ugh, I hate it when you go full mom with my name," she groans as she emerges.

Lou has always hated her name. Louann because it sounds archaic even if it means a battle maiden or a renowned warrior. The second one, well, what irony. And only Debbie can get away with using her full name.

"You did not just—"

She cuts herself off when Lou emerges once again and joins the boys—her _family_ in a fit of giggles. Debbie wants to melt at the sight but instead she drops her wrap and dives right in, jumping up onto Lou's shoulders from behind.

* * *

_A/N: I'm noticing a pattern. This fic may be exploring Lou's character and her backstory more but it seems to be giving more insight into Debbie's thoughts. What I don't know is if that's how the rest of the chapters will play out. I guess we'll see._

_PS: If they make an O9 film with just Lou and Debbie flirting, I would gladly give them all my money._


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Notes: I was planning to post this last night but I fell asleep while editing it for errors, which I don't really regret given how I've only had about 10 hours of sleep this past week. UGH. Anyway, *ding ding ding* rating change! Keeping it at an M tho because sexy times are NOT my forte AT ALL so please be kind. I'd advise you kids to stay away but y'all can make your own decisions._

* * *

**Chapter 4 - there is nothing here to doubt, nothing to fear**

Later that night, Debbie's left alone in the living room for a few minutes while Lou and Harry get the twins ready for bed. Harry was now taking his own shower after the boys' bath left him soaked, and Lou was still upstairs for their bedtime story after loud giggles and cheers of "Read us a story, Aunty Lou, please!" and "Do the voices! The voices, Aun'y Wou!"

Lou's accent wasn't the only thing that children loved; apparently, she does voices too. Debbie wants to tease her so badly but the serene smile on Lou's face as she descends the stairs stops her.

"They're out."

"After, what, story number seventeen?" Okay, so she couldn't help it; sue her.

"Hey, you only get to judge when you've successfully said no to those baby blues," she says as she plops down on the couch beside Debbie.

Debbie clicks her tongue. "I already have enough trouble saying no to yours."

This has Lou half-snorting, half scoffing. "That's a lie!"

"I didn't say never, just that I have trouble."

Debbie Ocean wouldn't be a criminal mastermind if she didn't have an iron grip on her self-control. There were only two people who could influence that; one's dead (or is going to be if it turns out he actually isn't), and the other one is warm and lithe and beautiful and _home _and lo—

"Why have you never said yes before?"

Debbie blinks. "To what?"

"To California."

"I've always been a city girl, you know that."

Lou studies her for a little while. "How can you be so good at what you do and still not realize what your tell is?"

"Excuse me?"

"When you're lying." The corner of Lou's lips curls up into a slight smirk. "It might have been years, Deb, but your tell is still as clear to me as the day I first noticed it."

"I don't have a tell," says Debbie, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"I beg to differ."

They have a stare-down until Debbie breaks it to watch her own fingers scratching at the bottle's label once again.

"What—"

"I won't tell you what it is or you'll stop doing it."

"Smart," she mutters under her breath.

"Yes, I am." Lou smirks at her. "Now, if you're done stalling…"

"I don't know, Lou," Debbie sighs. "It's just… You've always been secretive about it. Nothing about what you're doing, who you're visiting, where you're staying... I didn't even find out you were going to _LA _until today." She pauses and Lou knows her well enough to wait her out. "We were together almost every day of every year and I just thought that if you're taking a trip, it's probably your way of telling me you need space, you know? Time away, once a year."

Lou snorts. "What, a break from you?"

"You make it sound like I'm a horrible habit but essentially, yes, a break from me."

Lou's smile is not as she stares at Debbie and shakes her head. "Your mind is beautiful thing, Debbie Ocean, but you're not the best at reading people. At least, not the ones you're _not_ trying to con."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

With her gaze locked on Debbie's, she explains, "It means that a seven-year break was not necessary, nor was it wanted even after you _left_. That an annual invite to _come with me_ to California meant I never needed space. That you should've known and I hope you always know…" She trails off and leans forward, resting her arms on her knees facing Debbie. "I never need a break from you and I sure as hell don't want one."

Debbie itches to look away, afraid of possibly baring her soul, but Lou's eyes are sincere and almost challenging and so beautifully blue despite the dark lighting. It pulls her in as if she were enchanted so she mirrors Lou's body language, face mere inches away.

Softly, she says, "Good, because from now on, wherever you go, I'll follow. I'm never letting you go again, Miller."

Lou shakes her head, this time with a fond smile, and pulls away a little bit. "I thought you were going to give me a cheesy ocean metaphor."

"Oh, you want one? Let's see…" Debbie makes a show of tapping her chin and looking far off into the distance. "You keep me grounded. Because if I'm the ocean, then you're the shore. You know, like how Australia is basically all sand?"

"It is _not_," Lou tries to argue but cracks up at the horrible metaphor.

"Shh, I'm trying to give you what you want." She playfully reaches over to silence Lou and gets her hand swatted at.

Lou looks over at Debbie with a raised eyebrow once her chuckles die down. "Oh? And what's that?"

"My waves might take me away, but I'll always come back." Debbie's grin turns soft and almost shy but her gaze remains on Lou's, trying to communicate something deeper that even she herself has yet to fully grasp. "You're _home_."

She tries to smile again to lighten up the sudden weight that came over them but the intensity of Lou's gaze, the set of her jaw, and the slight twitching of her fingers on her knee leaves Debbie frozen in her spot, somehow vulnerable at Lou's mercy.

"Home's you' heart," comes a surprise little voice that makes both of them turn to the bottom of the stairs to find one of the twins rubbing at his eyes. "'s what dada says."

Lou will never admit it but the sight reminds her of a tiny Harry and it absolutely tugs at her heartstrings.

"What are you doing up, Bubba?" She asks softly, twisting in her seat and opening her arms when the little boy makes his way across the room towards her.

The little boy climbs up his aunt's lap to snuggle in her chest for a bit before pulling back to say, "Bubby kicked me."

"He did? Is he dreaming about flying with dragons again?"

"Uh huh," he snuggles back in with his little arms hugging Lou by the neck.

Debbie surprises both Lou and herself when she leans a little closer to the boy and softly asks, "Aren't there dinosaurs that fly? Why don't you fly with your brother and his dragons?" When she notices Lou giving her a questioning look, she shakes her head a little. "His dad may have mentioned an obsession with dragons and dinosaurs so I figured…" She trails off and gestures toward the boy who has turned a little on Lou's lap to peek at the new person.

"It's alright, Bubba. It's just Aunty Debbie; you played with her earlier, remember?" Lou's tender gaze catches the little boy's as she gives him a reassuring nod; it also happens to be the reason she misses the flash of surprise and panic on Debbie's face at the title.

"Right," she manages to reply.

Earlier in the day, she was introduced as just "_Debbie_, _Aunty Lou's friend_" so this sudden promotion to _aunt_ caught her off guard. When Lou returns her gaze to her partner, however, Debbie is once again the picture of confidence and ease.

"Lucas has always been a cautious child, so unlike Louis who runs head first into everything."

"Mama said I'm like you, and Bubby, Dada."

"Did she now?" Lou asks quietly, oddly surprised at the astute observation.

"I can see that," Debbie mutters and suddenly twin pairs of baby blues stare at her. She briefly wonders how two people who are not biologically related can look so similar. She clears her throat. "Is that why you went looking for Lou just now instead of going to your dad?"

The little boy blinks at her then shakes his head. "I's going to Dada but I heard you."

"Oh, I hope we weren't too noisy."

"Nuh uh," the boy shakes his head so quickly it's a wonder he doesn't get whiplash. "But Aunty Lou's laughing."

Debbie smiles. "She was."

"I like when Aunty Lou laughs."

From her slightly bent position, Debbie looks up at Lou whose eyes seem to sparkle in the dim light. "Me too, kid."

The boy reaches for a lock of Debbie's hair and plays with it a little bit before shocking her with, "I like you too," whispered in the way children do that allows everyone in the room to hear them anyway.

"Oh?"

"Mhmm." He lets her hair go and retreats back into Lou's warmth, suddenly sleepy again. "You make her laugh," he explains with a yawn, snuggling into his aunt. "I sleep now."

Debbie just blinks, watching Lou tenderly run her fingers through the boy's hair before lightly kissing the top of his head, and it's almost as if her whole chest couldn't decide whether to burst into a million tiny pieces or to melt into a puddle of goo.

She was never one for children and as far as she knew, neither was Lou. They shared an unspoken vow to voluntary childlessness, especially given the kind of business they dealt in. But seeing Lou and her almost seamless way of fitting in with the twins makes Debbie feel...odd, to say the least. Although she supposes she shouldn't have been surprised, what with the way Tammy's children seemed to gravitate to Lou both times they joined their mom for a visit at the loft. Lou had brushed off Debbie's slight suspicions back then when the kids wanted no one but Lou to read them bedtime story after bedtime story, saying it was simply because they've met her a couple times before and loved her accent. Finding out about Harry and his family—_Lou's _family—just answered half of Debbie's questions but also opened up more.

"He's asleep," she hears Lou whisper. "Let me just tuck him back in and I'll be with you."

"Can I—" Debbie pauses, clearing her throat when her voice cracks. "Can I come with you?"

Lou's eyes widen almost imperceptibly as she tilts her head but opts to say or do nothing but nod. Debbie follows quietly, torn between wanting to bear witness to everything Lou does and running as far away as possible. So she settles by the doorway, not quite going in, as she watches Lou gently lay the boy down on the bed beside his brother who's happily channeling a starfish in his sleep. She smiles because she knows a certain blonde who sleeps similarly spread-eagled.

She shakes her head, almost laughing at the memory of being incredibly annoyed at her heavy sleeper of a partner for occupying so much space in the bed they used to share back when money was tight and jobs weren't as lucrative. She remembers being woken up by an elbow to her side or a long leg thrown carelessly over her hip or a face pressed against her neck or shoulder or just being cocooned in Lou's warmth on the rare nights that Lou settled in peacefully.

And then she's hit by the sudden desire to have her personal space invaded that way once again followed by the panic it sets off inside her, making her breaths come quick and shallow. They no longer need to share space that way out of necessity, but she _wants_ to. She turns away from the scene in the children's room – where Lou is fixing the boys' positions on the bed before lightly kissing their foreheads – and leans heavily against the wall beside the door, forcing herself to take deep breaths.

Inhale. "What…" Exhale. "Is wrong with you?" Inhale. "It's just Lou." Exhale. "That's right." Inhale. "Just Lou." When her breathing goes back to normal, she rests her head back against the wall and closes her eyes, whispering, "Just Lou."

"Deb?" Lou's soft voice startles her a little. "You alright?"

"Yeah, of course." She stands up straighter. "I just...didn't realize how tired I was until I saw them sleeping." She lies straight through her teeth. Lou said she had a tell but if Lou saw through the lie, she didn't show it.

"Your age starting to catch up with you?" Lou teases instead without looking at Debbie as they make their way back to the living room.

"I'm only three years older than you."

"You're still turning 50 three years before I do."

"Fuck you, Miller," she responds then notices that instead of settling back into their earlier positions on the couch, Lou starts cleaning up. "Why are you cleaning up?"

"You need to sleep. Harry said he showed you your room?" She continues on her task, still not looking at her partner, afraid she might not be able to hide the slight disappointment she feels without understanding why.

Debbie joins Lou by the coffee table and starts picking up their glasses. "He did. Right across from yours."

"What are you doing?" Lou asks upon seeing Debbie cleaning up as well and the question makes Debbie pause, tilting her head in confusion.

"Cleaning up."

"Why?"

"I'm helping you?"

"I thought you were tired." Lou narrows her eyes but Debbie only shrugs then walks over to the sink beside where Lou was leaning and starts doing the dishes. "You've always hated cleaning up and doing the dishes. And they do have a dishwasher, by the way."

"Maybe I prefer the old-fashioned way." Debbie shrugs. "Doesn't mean I don't still hate it. But I used to do it all the time anyway because you always cooked."

"But you _hate_ it."

"Yeah, well, I hated a lot of things in prison but I had to do them anyway."

A long silence befalls them. Debbie's never really gone into detail about her time inside but Lou knows this is Debbie's way of saying they'll talk about it, but not now. Debbie almost backtracks and apologizes but Lou beats her to it.

"This isn't prison, Deb." She starts quietly but no less seriously. "You're free to do what you want."

"I know," Debbie sighs and presses her hands on the sides of the sink before looking up at Lou. "I'm just saying that it doesn't matter whether I hate something or not, as long as I get to _choose_ it."

"And you're choosing to do something you hate." Lou doesn't even bother hiding her disbelief.

Debbie shrugs again before focusing back on the task at hand. "So you won't have to. I know you hate it too, don't lie."

Lou openly stares at the side of Debbie's head, willing her to turn her head and meet her gaze but Debbie's always been stubborn. "You said you were tired," she tries again.

"I am, but so are you."

"You need sleep."

"I'll sleep when you do," Debbie answers as if it were the most natural flow of things.

Lou stifles a groan before dipping her hands under the soapy water to retrieve Debbie's, washes both Debbie's hands and then hers, drying them, and gently pulling on Debbie's wrist to lead her back to the living room. She plops down on the couch and pulls Debbie down beside her. Debbie can do nothing but follow Lou's silent instructions, not that she's complaining about where she can see this heading.

"If you want to sleep when I do, then you're going to sit here, watch bad TV, and rest."

"O...kay?"

"You're free to leave if you want, but you're not going to do something you hate. And definitely not for me."

"Look, I know you'd never ask." Lou remains silent, eyes focused on the TV but seeing nothing. "You've always been that way for me and that's why I'd do it anyway. I know I don't have the best track record, especially in the last seven years. But I'll make up for that."

"You don't have to." _Just be here._

"I know. But I will." _I want to. For as long as you'd let me._

They're both still pretending to watch the show intently – they're not, they don't even notice it's playing a rerun of one of the kids' favorite shows. Debbie doesn't bother hiding her smile when Lou bumps her shoulder against hers and, instead of pulling back, stays there.

**\- x -**

Debbie stirs when she hears what seems to be stage whispers.

"Shh, you'll wake 'em up."

"But I want Aun'y Wou."

"She's sleeping."

"Fey had a sweepover wifou' us," the little boy – Louis, Debbie deduces from the adorable W's and F's – complains and by the sound of it, he must be pouting.

She stirs once again and groans when she realizes she couldn't move. She pops one eye open and looks down only to see a full head of tousled blonde hair pillowed in the space from her right shoulder to just above her chest. And then she hears giggles that make her turn her head to the source to find two identical heads peering at her a little too closely.

"Aunty Wou's hard to wake up."

And she is. But she wasn't always like this. Debbie's known this about Lou from the first night they spent under one roof when they started running with each other. The smallest of movements and the softest of sounds used to make Lou jerk awake. A long, restful sleep was a luxury when you're fending for yourself, alone in questionable neighborhoods. But the months, years passed and Lou's trust in Debbie only grew enough to develop habits she otherwise would've trained herself out of.

And that's yet another realization that hit Debbie. Lou doesn't trust easily and she's come a long way from doubting Debbie every step of the way to following her without question. She'll do well never to break that trust again.

"You okay, Aunty Debbie?"

She hums, unconsciously burying her fingers in Lou's soft hair and lightly massaging her scalp. She only realizes what she's doing when she hears a quiet moan that's close to a purr just as Lou's face nuzzles a little lower into her chest. Her eyes snap close as she fights her own moan and remembers where she is.

"Where's your father?"

"Asweep."

"We were gon' jump up his bed but Bubby missed Aunty Lou."

"Why don't you go do that and I'll try to wake your aunt, okay?"

"'Kay!" The twins shout in unison with no regard for Debbie's eardrums. Good thing Lou's a heavy sleeper.

Debbie turns her head to look back down at Lou and inhales, smelling her shampoo and relishing in her warmth, slowly getting lulled back to sleep as her fingers card through Lou's hair. Her other hand makes its way up Lou's back, moving in soothing circular motions.

"Lou? Lou, baby, wake up," she tries anyway despite wanting nothing but to stay.

When she feels more than hears a grunt from Lou, she stops her ministrations and makes a move to sit up but is halted when Lou's arms tighten around her waist.

"Don't go," Lou mumbles and nuzzles further into Debbie's chest, settling with a sigh. Debbie wonders if she's actually woken up for a bit or if she's just talking in her sleep. But either way, she's not awake enough herself to fully process what's going on so she lies back down on the couch, eyes closed, and lets her hands move as they were.

That's how Harry finds them and he'll be damned if he lets this pass without commemorating it so he whips out his phone and snaps two quick pictures of them. When he hears the pitter-patter of tiny feet going down the stairs, he clears his throat.

"Here comes the storm," he says loud enough to jerk Debbie into consciousness. "Good morning."

"Hey, uh, sorry," she tries to sit up once again but Lou's warm weight wouldn't allow her.

"It's quite alright, no judgments here. She sleeps like a log." He chuckles then tilts his head in observation. "Or a koala, it seems." He grins at the sudden pink in Debbie's cheeks. His sister sure knows how to 'get the girl', even in her sleep.

"Well," Debbie starts but doesn't get another word out.

"When the boys woke me up with news of your sleepover, I thought they'd entered one of your rooms without permission. I'm just glad they're not scarred for life after seeing their aunts...you know."

"Umm…" Debbie blinks.

"My wife and I make sure we lock our door when we have our _sleepovers_." He shamelessly winks before turning and walking away and not leaving much room for Debbie to correct him on his assumption. He briefly walks by them again lugging both giggling boys in each of his arms. "I'm gonna get the coffee going while I make breakfast for these troublemakers."

Debbie lightly tugs at Lou's hair in an attempt to wake her up and promptly flushes when Lou lets out an almost obscene moan. That was certainly an unexpected but not unwelcome reminder of who her partner was, particularly what her partner _likes_, and it takes her back to when found out twelve years ago.

_#_

_"__Deb, what are you doing?"_

_"__Trying to get into your pants."_

_"__Why?"_

_"__Baby, isn't it obvious?"_

_"__Debbie—"_

_"__Don't you want this?"_

_"__You know I do." Lou closes her eyes. This wasn't an admission she was ready to make outside of her own mind but she could slowly feel her resolve breaking with all of Debbie warm and flush against her, desperation coming off her in waves. "The question is, do you?"_

_"__Don't." Debbie kisses her again to keep her from speaking. "Don't talk. No words unless you want this to stop."_

_Lou almost whimpers because as good as Debbie's mouth feels sucking on her pulse point, that hurt. This is happening. It's really happening, but not the way she wants it to. So if this is the only time she'd have this, she'll be damned if she doesn't make it the best Debbie's ever had._

_The moment Lou's teeth graze Debbie's pulse point, Debbie gasps. So she tries it again later on Debbie's nipple and feels Debbie's muscles clench around her fingers. Apparently, Debbie likes her pleasures a little rough around the edges. When Debbie wordlessly starts begging Lou to let her come, Lou curls her fingers and sucks on Debbie's clit. But ultimately, what makes Debbie scream and let go is when Lou teases her clit with a playful nip of her teeth._

_Debbie finds out Lou likes having her hair pulled when she's settled comfortably between Debbie's thighs. She takes Debbie's hand, first to lace their fingers together, but as she keeps at it, she reaches for Debbie's other hand, which she's been using to keep her sounds at a minimum, and places it on her own head. When her release comes again, she forgets herself and clenches her fist around Lou's hair, tugging like she would if she were clutching the sheets, and it sends her flying even higher when Lou's deep moan vibrates through her core._

_Lou thanks whatever heavens there were that they were in her room. It makes for easy access to some...paraphernalia that might make this even more pleasurable for Debbie. So as Debbie catches her breath, Lou sheds the rest of her clothes, leaving her bra on before securing the harnesses around her hips._

_Debbie's every touch and every kiss may not completely be familiar to her but she knows desperation when she sees it, especially when it's a reflection of her own. And she also knows, based on her experiences with other women, that when they're at a low point, they want to either be reminded how to feel or be able to forget the world, one little death at a time. Bottomline is, they want to fuck or be fucked._

_She crawls up Debbie's body slowly, keeping some lube close by. She moves her hips in such a way that she's sure Debbie can tell what's resting on her thigh._

_"__I know you said no talking, honey, but I need to know you're okay with this."_

_Debbie's eyes are wells of dark chocolate when they meet Lou's. She thought she was spent but apparently her body has other plans._

_Her hands move to cup Lou's ass and pull her as close as possible, hoping this was and would be as pleasurable for Lou as she anticipates it will be for her. Lou's resulting moan at the friction on her side of things makes Debbie close her eyes and slowly run her fingers up Lou's back._

_"__The only thing I'm not okay with…" She pulls the strap of Lou's bra then lets it go with a snap. "Is this," she continues, unhooking the garment and gasping when she feels Lou's fingers testing how ready she is._

_"__Still so wet, darling," Lou says, voice low and breath hot against her ear, before sitting up and reaching for the lube._

_"__Then why are you—"_

_Lou pauses to look at her. "I don't want to hurt you."_

_"__Maybe I want it to hurt."_

_Lou shakes her head. "Trust me, honey, I can get you there without hurting you." She winks, leaning down to meet Debbie eye-to-eye. "You sure about this?"_

_Debbie wants to roll her eyes but instead finds herself transfixed by the way Lou's hand almost delicately moves up and down in the space between them. It has her pulling Lou in for another heated make-out session, moaning when she feels Lou position herself. She raises one of her legs, wrapping it around Lou's hips, pulling her in. Suddenly, she's out of breath, panting before Lou even starts to move. She doesn't even realize she'd dug her nails into Lou's back until she feels more than hears Lou growling beside her ear. She almost apologizes but then Lou starts thrusting, slowly at first then building up speed, leaving her scrambling for purchase, scratching down Lou's back._

_"__Your hands," Lou pauses her words but not her actions. "Are deliciously dangerous." She changes her position, therefore changing the angle, and Debbie's eyes shut tight, her back arching. Lou reaches for Debbie's hands and pins them down above her head, letting them touch the headboard. "But keep them up here for now." She straightens her spine, shuddering when Debbie obeys without an ounce of hesitation, eyes glazed over and breath coming in pants and gasps._

_"__Oh, god, oh, god. Ohh," Debbie almost chokes at one particularly delicious thrust. "Fuck! Right there, baby, just—"_

_Lou lifts one of Debbie's legs, hooking it on her elbow so she could go deeper, then leans back down, leaving a trail of kisses up Debbie's jaw to her ear. "Coming, dear?"_

_Debbie wants to smack the smugness off of Lou's tone but when Lou's teeth sink into her pulse point, white hot pleasure blinds her and she simply can't complain. Lou might not have heard it from Debbie herself but she knew from Debbie's every response – and her practically boneless state afterwards – that she just had the best sex of her life._

_#_

"You gotta wake up now, baby," she says quietly, her voice thick at the memory, making her swallow. She moves her hand and lets her fingers massage the back of Lou's neck. "Your brother thinks we're together." Her hands slide down Lou's sides where she knows her partner is ticklish. "And your nephews are jealous that I had a sleepover with you."

"Stop. Stop!" Lou jerks to the side and slides off of Debbie, getting herself stuck between Debbie's body and the back of the couch. "You know I hate it when you do that," she says, speech and occasional giggles muffled by the way she buries her face into Debbie's shoulder.

Her voice is thick with sleep yet raspy as she squirms and huffs when Debbie finally lets up. She opens her eyes, moves her hair away from her face, and gets a view that leaves her in awe – Debbie's beside her leaning on her elbow, face so close above hers, smiling so sweetly.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

Debbie's affectionate whisper has Lou sitting up so suddenly, never wanting the dream to end and upon realizing it wasn't a dream at all, rushes to hide the heat creeping up her neck and instantly regrets it.

She's always been so sure of herself, always owns who she is, always knows what she wants and goes for it. But all of her certainty, confidence, and finesse just go to shit when it comes to Debbie Ocean.

With her face in her hands, she groans. "Head rush."

Debbie smooths a hand up from Lou's elbow to her shoulder and gently pulls her back down. "You sat up too quickly. Just lay back down for a bit. I'll make you some coffee."

"Deb, no—"

"I'll _get_ you coffee _made by your brother_. Don't worry, baby, I won't burn your precious beans."

* * *

_A/N: There you go. Progress! Some of it, anyway. And another little flashback. There will probably be one more in the next four or so chapters but we'll see how it goes._


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Notes: I started writing this just to get it out of my system but I'm glad people are actually reading it. I love all your messages, whether they're gushing about these little shits or encouraging me to continue writing. It means a lot so I hope you stick around and enjoy the rest of it._

* * *

**Chapter 5 - if you'll hold me, we can fade into the night**

They're settled on the hood of Lou's car somewhere along the Cliffs of Palos Verdes after almost a full day of touring Debbie around LA, where Lou practically just drove her around on long stretches of road while pointing out random tourist attractions that she thinks were overrated to begin with.

"You sure you won't regret it when you find scratches on this pink thing?"

"It is obviously _rose gold_, and no, as long you keep your weapons off the hood, we're good," Lou says, eyeing Debbie's shoes.

"Weapons? Really?" Debbie chuckles, trying to figure out the best way to position herself on the hood that she hasn't even looked up at the view in front of them.

"I told you to dress comfortably; that includes shoes, Deb."

"I'm wearing boots."

"_Stiletto _boots."

"Stilettos are comfortable."

"Said no one, ever." Lou doesn't miss a beat. "I mean, they're nice—"

"_Nice?_" Debbie challenges, making Lou roll her eyes.

"Alright, they're fucking hot—"

"You wear them too, sometimes."

"I do like them, especially on you." This makes Debbie's head whip around to look at Lou, who doesn't seem fazed at all by what she just let slip. "But they're the farthest thing from comfortable, honey. Certainly not for a tour."

"A tour where we barely left your car except to eat?"

"_Because _you're wearing those!"

Lou sheds her leather jacket and rolls it up into a makeshift pillow before crossing her legs at the ankles. Only then does Debbie take in her attire: a battered and obviously well-loved CBGB tank top, dark jeans, combat boots with heels that are rather low for Lou's standards, her signature layering of accessories, and a pair of sunglasses resting on top of her head.

"You can take the girl out of the city but you can't take the city out of the girl."

"Unless it's for a con," Lou supplies, more a statement than a question.

"Unless it's for—" Debbie rushes to correct Lou but the sight of the cliff with the sun setting in the backdrop takes her breath away. _You, _she meant to say. _Unless it's for you._

Lou looks over at her partner's abrupt silence and is instantly mesmerized by the way the sunset seems to make Debbie glow like an ethereal goddess.

"Lou, this is…" Debbie trails off, hand finding Lou's and clutching it tightly. "It's…"

Lou twists her hand palm up to lace their fingers together, clutching just as tightly as she keeps her gaze on Debbie. "Beautiful," she finishes. It takes her a few seconds to realize she's just fallen under such a cliché so she mentally shakes herself before looking towards the vast expanse in front of them, narrowly missing the way Debbie's head snaps in her direction.

"Yeah, beautiful," she whispers before she looks back at the sunset. "I never thought I'd see this, you know? I mean, I always knew I'd get out earlier than my sentence and see the sun as a free woman; I'd planned for it. But this…" She pulls their hands up, settling them on her chest, before she continues, "I never thought I'd have this."

Debbie Ocean rarely talks about anything personal, much less without being prompted. Lou is pleasantly surprised but she knows better than to call attention to it so she just scoots closer until they're shoulder to shoulder.

"For what it's worth, even if you didn't have this," she says after a while, vaguely gesturing to the view. "You'll always have me."

When she's met with silence, she almost wishes she hadn't said anything. But then Debbie's head lightly bumps against hers and she closes her eyes, content at the thought that her partner probably just fell asleep.

Except she didn't. She was just gathering enough courage to respond. And when she finally does, it's barely above a whisper as she squeezes Lou's hand.

"That's more than enough, baby."

**\- x -**

"You never told me how you found Leslie and Constance so quickly."

Lou tilts her head, studying Debbie from across their booth at a local diner to try to find out where the subject came from. "Doubting my sleuthing skills now, are we?"

"Oh, I don't doubt that. In fact, the only time I ever doubted anything about you was whether you would actually come when I sent you that first text."

_Where is the fking cemetery? 12pm?_

Debbie hadn't really been expecting Lou to tell her she wasn't angry anymore or that even if she were, she still would've come. But Lou's lack of response and inability to meet her gaze made her feel like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Lou's silence spoke volumes about whether her doubt had merit and that really, truly hurt.

Lou keeps her gaze on her half-eaten dinner, more pushing her food around than actually eating at this point. She is having a sort of internal debate, unsure whether to bring it up. On the one hand, she and Debbie are finally in a much better place now in repairing their friendship and rebuilding their partnership but it's (arguably) still tenuous at best. On the other, if she doesn't say this now, she might never be able to and she's done keeping quiet about things that could backfire when left unaddressed, about things that could potentially affect her mental state and sobriety.

"I almost didn't," she finally admits, her expression a cross between the guilt and determination she feels at the moment, and her voice reflects that as well.

Oddly enough, Lou's clenched jaw reminds Debbie of another expression – one she wishes she'd never seen and never has to see again.

_#_

_"__Is this payback?"_

_"__What are you talking about?"_

_"__I left you, nearly a decade ago. I didn't want to, I told you that, right? I _had_ to. Otherwise, I wouldn't have left, especially when you were practically begging me not to."_

_Debbie pauses in her packing to look Lou in the eyes. She expected the anger and the hurt reflected in those baby blues, even the confusion. She almost caves in but then suddenly, a flicker of desperation makes itself known in Lou's gaze, something she knows she can manipulate. Debbie squares her shoulders and laughs the most genuine fake-laugh she could manage given the situation._

_"__Is that what this is?" Debbie smirks. "I got a goodbye romp when you left so it's only fair that you get one too, is that it? Alright then." She steps right into Lou's space, grabs the lapels of Lou's vest, and crashes their lips together._

_It takes Lou a moment to recover because she's wanted nothing more than a repeat of that night. The night they never talked about. The night they both still pretend never happened. She wants that so badly. She wants Debbie so badly. But not like this._

_She pushes Debbie away with a little more force than she intended to that they both stumble back, Debbie onto her bed and Lou against the closed door of Debbie's room. She's holding back tears as she shakes her head, reaching for the doorknob as a lone tear rolls down her cheek._

_"__You're a fucking asshole, Ocean. I can't even look at you."_

_Lou subtly wiped the tear but Debbie saw it. She keeps the smirk plastered on her face as she waits for the front door to slam shut before she breaks down._

_Those were the last words Lou ever said to her. Nothing during her time with Claude. Nothing during her arrest. Nothing during her trial, save for a glimpse of blonde hair she'd recognize from a mile away leaving the courtroom when her sentence had been issued. Nothing during her imprisonment, this one because she made Lou promise, through Danny, not to visit at all._

_#_

At the time, she thought she was punishing herself. She never even considered the consequences of her actions, much less the indirect repercussions with regard to Lou.

"I almost didn't," she repeats, this time with a firmer tone. "Admitting this makes my skin crawl with guilt somehow because it's you and there shouldn't have been a question in the first place but at the same time, it's _you_." She pauses, huffs as she stares out the glass wall of the diner. "I've been doing so well, building a life of my own, on my own, away from temptation. Did I really want to put myself in a vulnerable position again?"

Debbie forces herself to swallow but it felt like the bile just kept rising slowly as she all but hangs her head in—What, guilt? Shame? _Away from_ _temptation_, she said. She was more likely referring to the bottle but given the context of this conversation, she might as well have meant Debbie.

"I thought of diving back in again that night. I was at the club, no one knew about my—" She blinks. "Except maybe April—because she's a smart girl even if she's shit at her job—no one noticed how I was teetering so close to the edge. I didn't sleep that night; I couldn't. But when I saw you, when I smelled the same perfume that I stole for you all those years ago, I just knew I made the right choice." She stops just as suddenly as she had started. She hadn't meant to say this much but it once she started, it's like the flood gates had opened. She frowns when she sees Debbie clenching her jaw. "I won't apologize, not when I showed up anyway."

That seems to kick Debbie into gear. "You don't have to apologize, Lou." She swallows, feeling like her throat was somehow covered in sand. "As hard as this is to admit, the only reason I even doubted you'd come was because you had every right not to." She finally looks at Lou when she adds, "Just as you have every right to walk away from me, right here, right now."

Lou blinks slowly, eyes flitting back and forth between Debbie's, trying to figure out if this was her way of telling Lou to leave while she can or she'd get left behind again. And just as she opens her mouth to respond, a loud ringing interrupts her. Or, more accurately, a very loud children's song starts playing out of nowhere, going—

_Mommy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo  
Mommy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo_

They both blink but neither of them make any sort of movement.

_Mommy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo  
Mommy shark!_

"What the hell?" Debbie only manages not to curse out loud when she realizes that it was coming from her phone.

Lou hides her amusement by taking a sip of her coffee. Given the weight of the conversation she and Debbie were having, she could tell that Debbie really didn't want to answer. But Debbie just wants the noise to stop and sort of panics and slides to accept the call instead of declining it.

"Explain yourself!" She all but hisses into her phone.

"Say what?"

"What is with this hideous ringtone?"

"Oh, that. Well, it fits you. Like, your being mom and all? Anyway," Constance pauses before launching into her trademark babble that Debbie could barely keep up with. "I was calling to ask if I could, like, hang with you and maybe stay the night? 'Cause, like, I may have watched a horror film and now I'm, like, wide awake and staring at the shadows."

"What?"

"I can't sleep."

Debbie rolls her eyes. "Go bother Tammy."

"You're closer," she whines.

"Not when I'm not home."

Constance hums. "'Not home'? Is that, like, a euphemism for, like, on a date and about to go to fourth base kinda thing?" She waits a while but Debbie doesn't respond. "Oh, wait, is it _third_ base? I don't know anything about football."

"It's _base_ball."

"Same difference."

"You are a literal child. I'm hanging up now." She doesn't even wait for a response before she ends the call.

"Cons?" Lou asks but her smile suggests to Debbie that she already knew.

"Yes, you need to stop indulging her every quirk."

"So she's eccentric." Lou shrugs. "I like that about her."

_#_

_The first thing Constance ever steals from Lou is a coin. But it's not just any coin. It's a special one, one that's earned not bought. And she's never tried to steal anything from Lou again. Unless it's for shits and giggles, of course, in which case she always returns what she's taken._

_She likes Lou. If she were gay, or had any kind of type at all, it would probably be someone like Lou. Except, there's no one quite like Lou._

_She's a huge softie underneath all that tough leather- or suit-clad exterior but she's badass through and through. What she appreciates the most about her friend—Are they friends? She'd like to think so 'cause that would mean she has a dope friend. Anyway, what she appreciates most about Lou, however, is her honesty._

_Marks aside, she's never afraid to be candid about her sentiments or to admit to not knowing something before proceeding to learn the crap out of said something. She's a fucking genius when she wants to be but couldn't be bothered with petty theft or techie jobs._

_She claims to not like children but she's wonderful with them. She once saw Lou comfort a crying little girl, managing to make her laugh, and was just about ready to give the parent the riot act when a distraught teenage boy came running to them, worried as fuck but still gently reprimanding the little girl for running off._

_"__I'm sorry if she bothered you, Ma'am," the young boy says from his position knelt in front of the girl. "She has a habit of running off when she sees something she likes."_

_"__I'm sorry," the little girl softly says, lips quivering._

_"__It's okay, Carrie, just tell me next time so I can come with you, okay?" He stands up, keeping one hand on top of the girl's head while extending the other towards Lou. "I'm Chris, by the way."_

_Lou hesitates before she pulls her hand out of her pocket and accepts his handshake. "Lou."_

_"__Nice to meet you, Ma'am." He doesn't notice Lou's eye twitch a second time at the supposed honorific. "This is my sister Carrie. Our mom's in the clinic getting a check-up," he says, gesturing behind them. "Thanks for looking after her before I found her. Come on, Carr."_

_The little girl turns and takes a step before she pulls at her brother's hand and stands in front of Lou, head bent so far back to look at her. So Lou does the logical thing and crouches to be at eye-level with the girl._

_"__You're really pretty." Lou blinks, clearly not expecting that to come out. "And nice. Like a princess!"_

_Lou chuckles. "Well, I don't know about that, but you certainly look like one." She boops the little girl's nose, causing her to giggle, before she stands up. "Hey, kid. Chris, right?"_

_When the boy nods, she extends her hand to him this time and he absently accepts and is pleasantly surprised when he finds a folded yet crisp bill in his hand. Constance couldn't see what it was but judging by the kid's face, it was probably at least a clean 50._

_Lou brushes it off with a wave of her hand. "Buy yourselves something nice. Take care of her and your mom. And _don't_ lose her again."_

_"__Ye—Yes, Ma'am," he answers but Lou's already walking away. "Thank you!"_

_Constance tries to follow where Lou was headed but she's nowhere to be found and there's a gullible chap taking a seat in front of her, practically ready to lose his money, among other things, so she makes a mental note to watch out for the lady next time._

_Later, when there are barely any people left and her attention is on counting her earnings for the day (winnings in kind not included), she nearly jumps and drops her phone when a low voice speaks up from somewhere close behind her._

_"__Weren't you taught as a child that it's rude to stare?"_

_"__Fucking—Jeez, Louise!"_

_The woman from earlier, who is now seated right beside her, shrugs. "Close, but not quite."_

_"__The fuck are you scaring a girl for?!"_

_She tilts her head, shifts to sit on the chair opposite Constance, and drops a 20 on the low table between them, tapping a finger on the deck of cards._

_"__Beat me and the twenty is yours."_

_"__And if you win? Not gonna lie, I don't really have much to offer you, lady."_

_"__Just don't steal from me like you do with the others and we're good." Constance opens her mouth to deny it but Lou just raises an eyebrow and she promptly closes it again._

_"__Alright, I'll play."_

_They play best of three. Constance wins the first round, but Lou wins the next two._

_"__You're good."_

_"__You're better at," Lou pauses, gaze briefly shifting to the side. "_Magic_," she calls it instead of sleight of hand. "I do _math_."_

_Constance narrows her eyes. "You let me win that first round, didn't you?" Lou doesn't respond beyond a simple smirk. "You gotta teach me, woman!"_

_Lou stands, straightening her impeccable coat. "Give me back my coin and maybe, just maybe, I will."_

_Constance blinks. She'd taken it right before Lou changed seats and she was sure she'd done it flawlessly because Lou hadn't shown any indication of having realized what she did._

_"__I—"_

_With a more serious expression, she cuts Constance off. "Look at it and see if you actually want it."_

_Constance frowns. Cryptic, and slightly sketchy. Should she show her hand? But it's exactly the kind of interesting that she lives for so she reaches for said coin and studies it on her palm. It takes her a couple of seconds to recognize what it was and what the _III_ symbolizes and suddenly she feels like the worst person somehow._

_She extends her hand, palm up, and scratches the back of neck with the other. "Force of habit, sorry."_

_Lou shrugs, giving that vibe of nonchalance but the way her hand is clutching the coin tells Constance she really did something wrong._

_But then Lou suddenly smiles. "You did steal it before we made the rules."_

_Constance tries for a smile but it comes out sheepish because she still feels guilty. "It's not stealing if I return it, right?"_

_"__A loan then?"_

_"__God, no. Loans are, like, crazy. And evil. What about 'borrowing'?" But Lou just shakes her head and turns to leave. "Hey, it's Lou, right? Come by anytime you feel like playing." But Lou's already walking away. "I promise I won't do it again!"_

_Lou keeps walking but turns, walking backwards with a smirk, to give Constance a playful two-fingered salute._

_#_

_Daddy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo  
Daddy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo  
Daddy shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo  
Daddy shark!_

Debbie hums, smirking when Lou groans while retrieving her phone from her back pocket. "Still like _that_ about her?"

"Not her best work, gotta admit," Lou defends right before she answers. "Cons?"

"Daddy-yo! How is the California sun?"

"Warm," she answers with an eye-roll. "Why'd you call?"

"Oh, you know, just seeing how you're doing, wondering if you're back…"

Lou doesn't bother hiding her smirk. "Can't sleep?"

Constance tsks and forces a scoff. "No! What are you—What are you even talking—"

"_Cons_."

"Alright, fine! I watched a horror film because I got dared that I wouldn't be able to sit through it."

"And?"

"_And_ I watched that sucker from start to finish like the champ that I am."

"Good girl," Lou grins, unabashedly proud, and shrugs when Debbie glares at her. "Tell you what, look for Charlie Lyne's 2016 film called_ Paint Drying_ and get back to me."

"Sounds boring."

Lou hums, "You'll thank me later."

Constance takes three seconds to think about it but she's never regretted anything she's trusted Lou with so far. Like when she asked if the money from the necklace was legit, all she needed was Lou's affirmative to accept the job and now 30+ mill later, she can't really complain. So there really wasn't any question.

"'Kay." She says mid-crunch of whatever chips she's munching on. "Don't miss mom too much."

Lou frowns because that's an odd thing to tell her since Debbie's right here with her. But it's _Constance _so she glances at Debbie and teases the girl instead. "Don't miss _me_ too much."

"But I already do!" Constance pretty much screams into her phone and it has Lou pulling hers slightly away from her ear. "Hey, just, umm, if this paint shit, like, doesn't work and, you know—"

"You can call me," she finishes for the girl, ignoring the way Debbie looks to the ceiling in exasperation. "_But_ you won't have to."

"'Kay," she says again, but more content this time. "Peace out."

When Lou sets her phone on the table, Debbie teases, "Didn't you need to tuck her in too?"

"Funny."

"It is, though. You seem to have a habit of collecting strays."

"So do you."

"No," Debbie shakes her head. "I did it once, with you; but that doesn't count."

Lou huffs a laugh. "Why not?"

"Because," Debbie simply says, as if that explains everything. But Lou raises an eyebrow and waits until she finally gives in with an eye-roll, shaking her head as she composes herself. "With you, it's...different."

Lou watches as Debbie downs the rest of her water just to have something to do other than squirm from Lou's stare. Her gaze intently studies every feature of Debbie's face as if she hadn't already done that years ago. But now there are lines around her eyes and mouth, lines that somehow map Debbie's growth, the experiences that got her here, back with Lou. The thought makes a slow smile spread across her own features, a smile that Debbie finds so beautiful and yet can't help questioning.

"What?"

Lou's smile widens a little, showing a hint of teeth now, as she shakes her head delicately. "Nothing."

And then she starts spearing at her food, slowly chewing again as they continue to eat in silence. Once she's finished her food, she leans back and looks at Debbie.

"For the record, I've said this before and I'll say it again. I don't need nor want a break from you. And not to put pressure on you or anything, but ever since I got you back, I've never thought of even a drop. You didn't cause this, Deb. Besides, I'd like to think I've grown as a person; I know my sobriety is on me and no one else." She ends her speech by signaling for the check. "Oh, and about what you said earlier? Maybe I do have every right to walk away from you. But I like having you around. And regardless of where I end up retiring, I'd still like to have you around. So the only way we'd be apart is if _you _walk away."

"Never again." Debbie answers immediately, shaking her head for emphasis and blinking away the blur in her vision. "Ocean, waves, sand, and shore, remember?"

"Still a horrible metaphor," Lou snorts before she smiles, eyes slightly glassy and matching Debbie's. "But I'll take it."

* * *

_A/N: So there you go. Love takes time, folks. Sometimes y'all need to grow as individuals before you can make your relationship work. Or sometimes life is just shit. But with these two, I do believe they orbit each other and everything that happened and is about to happen will lead to sparks and rainbow kisses and unicorn stickers._

_Also, BQE in the house! I love the idea of Constance being Lou's not-so-secret fave. And idk why but I really got it into my head that our girl is ace._

_PS: My sincerest apologies if any of you got stuck on that god-awful children's song. That's on me._


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Notes: I was going to update last night but I got sick so here you go. This chapter gets a little heavy towards the end and I tried to be as representative or close to the real thing as possible but if my research proves inaccurate, feel free to let me know and I'll edit accordingly._

* * *

**Chapter 6 - take my hand and gently close your eyes so you could understand**

Debbie's unpacking her stuff – finally, because she never leaves her things unpacked for longer than a few hours except that a little sleepover and impromptu tour sort of got in the way, not that she's complaining – when her phone rings. She wasn't expecting a call from anyone so she contemplates muting and ignoring it when she sees Tammy's name on the screen.

"Hey, Tim-Tam."

"Deb? Where are you? This place looks deserted."

Debbie blinks. "We didn't have plans, did we?"

"No, I was just making sure you were eating and taking care of yourself while Lou's gone. I brought you some lasagna."

Debbie groans because Tammy's lasagna is to die for, even Lou unofficial-gourmet-chef Miller agrees. "I'm, uh, out of town," she finally says, trying to pin her phone between her cheek and shoulder as she continues to unpack.

"Out of town? Aren't you—Oh, my god, Deb! Your six months are up!"

"Nearly two weeks ago, actually."

"I can't believe I forgot. I'm happy for you."

When her phone threatens to slip, she gives up and puts Tammy on speaker. "Thanks, Tammy," she says, softer than usual.

"So?" Tammy asks, giddily, the sound of a car door shutting can be heard in the background. "Where's your first stop? Where are you staying? Please tell me you went somewhere with a nice beach. Are you enjoying yourself? Tell me everything."

She couldn't help shaking her head at her long-time friend's enthusiasm. "I don't kiss and tell, Tim-Tam, you know that."

Just then, the slightly ajar door to her assigned room bursts open with a frowning Lou strutting in. "Amita called. She said she came by to drop off our presents from Europe yesterday evening but our loft was practically a ghost town." Debbie's heart flutters at Lou referring to the loft as _theirs_. "And Tammy just texted me, asking where you are. Didn't you tell the girls you were coming to me?"

"Oh, my god, Lou? Wait, Deb—You went after Lou?" Tammy huffs but her voice steadily rises in pitch when she says, "Well, you could've just said so!"

Lou's eyes widen a little bit, clearly not expecting to have interrupted a call, much less one on speaker, and mouths "Sorry" which Debbie waves off, cheeks going a little pink at Tammy's giddy tone.

"It didn't really cross my mind at the time," she looks almost sheepish but she's definitely not apologetic when she finds Lou's eyes. "I just wanted to get here." _I just wanted to get to you_, is what Debbie's trying to say with the intensity of her gaze.

"Oh, I see. Don't kiss and tell, my ass-tigmatism in the left eye."

The tension in the room dissipates a little when both women frown slightly at the turn of the conversation on Tammy's side. Just then, sniffling followed by a tiny, sleep-addled voice filters in through the line.

"Mommy? Wolfie's not in the car."

"She's with your dad, sweetheart." She coos just a little bit, gently wiping at his cheeks and running her fingers through his hair. "He's at home stitching up her loose eye, remember?"

A tiny pause and then a giggle. "Oh."

"Your sister's at home too."

"I remember. Where's Aunt Debbie?"

"She's not here, sweetheart. She had to go because she missed Lou so much." This prompts a smirk from Lou and an eye-roll from Debbie but she doesn't deny it.

"Uncle Lou?"

Lou had gotten the "uncle" title because Tammy's son used to have an unusual speech problem when he was younger: he could pronounce Gs and Ks more easily than Ds and Ts. _Unca Wou _it was for a long time and her daughter eventually picked up on it. They never bothered changing it into "aunt/aunty."

"Yes."

"Is she happy now?" Lou looks at Debbie in question but the latter brushes it off.

"I think they're both very happy now."

"Like you are?"

Tammy smiles, cupping her son's cheek. Her sweet baby boy has always been so attuned to the people around him. "Like I am."

"Because they're together now? Like you and dad?" And his questions pretty much never stop.

Tammy pauses a bit, aware that her end of the conversation can be heard. "I'd like to think so, buddy. Now, go sit on the couch for a bit. Mommy will there in a second."

"Thanks, Mommy." A sloppy cheek kiss can be heard from the line right before Tammy goes right back into the conversation.

"Sorry about that, he's going through a clingy phase."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Lou brushes off. "It was rather entertaining."

For a few seconds, all Tammy could hear is the rustling of sheets followed by a deep groan and an uncharacteristic giggle. She is seconds away from scolding the other two about how they better not be doing what she thinks they're doing judging from the sounds she's hearing – well, they better be, given how much time they've both wasted, but not while she's on the phone – when Lou speaks again.

"How are the little buggers?"

"They alternate between being such wonderful angels and an incredible pain in my ass," she answers fondly.

Lou chuckles. "You wouldn't have it any other way."

"No, I most certainly wouldn't." Tammy's smile can be heard through the line. "It helps that Ian's Geneva project's over so he gets to spend more time at home."

"How does that work, by the way? I'm curious." Debbie asks as she bends over to put her shoes in a straight line under the enormous wardrobe.

Lou hums and mumbles, "Me too." She turns to her side on the bed and props her head on her hand, suddenly alert, but her eyes have strayed towards where Debbie was on her hands and knees on the floor.

Tammy clears her throat. "He knows. Now."

Debbie twists quickly and shoots Lou an alarmed look which Lou returns with much more grace and poise but all shameless ogling has flown out of her system. "Tammy…"

"Not about _that_," she clarifies and oh, if she could only see how the other two on the line deflate from relief. "Just...about what I really mean when I say 'eBay'."

Lou drops diagonally spread-eagled on the bed and Debbie sighs, resting her forehead on one of Lou's arms. She stops unpacking for now and crawls up the bed to settle beside or, more accurately, around Lou's form with her head pillowed on her partner's shoulder. She grabs her phone from the night stand and sets it down on Lou's stomach, keeping her hand there as well. Lou wraps her arm around Debbie's snuggled form, gently running a hand up and down her partner's back.

"How did he take it?" Debbie asks, relaxing further with the help of Lou's ministrations.

"Rather well, considering."

Lou glances down at Debbie and smiles, remembering what Tammy told them both about her fiancé before she left their odd little team. "Considering he's a humanitarian who's dedicated his life to making the lives of children in war-torn countries better?"

Tammy sighs, once again reminded of how she lucked out. "He got promoted almost four years ago," she explains for Debbie's benefit. "When he's out of the country, it's to attend meetings. He wishes he still did ground work but he's glad that the trade-off is that he gets to be with us more."

"How did he react exactly?"

"He got a little mad at first—Boy, was it a screaming match. Good thing the kids were at their grandparents'."

With a slightly defensive edge to her tone, Debbie asks, "He couldn't accept the crime?"

"He couldn't accept the _lying_."

Debbie tenses up a little bit and hopes to whatever god there was that Lou doesn't notice. And it seems she doesn't because her hand is still soothingly rubbing up and down her back.

"It was such an effective guilt trip and he wasn't even trying." Tammy continues, sniffling a little. "I told him I've set up separate college funds on top of the trust fund he set up for the kids. And he's always known how much goes into donations to causes we both support; he just didn't know where it came from. So now he knows I don't do it for the money. I don't need it anyway; I never did, you know."

"Trust fund baby," Debbie mutters against Lou's shoulder.

"Yes, I do remember you teasing me relentlessly about that. But who told you about every time obnoxious brats were going out of town with their families, hmm? And the camera placement in their houses?" But all she gets from Debbie is a snort. "Or about where Richard Benson parks his car whenever he sneaks out for his trysts with their family gardener?"

"Dick extraordinaire Benson? Has he come out yet or is he still the embodiment of toxic masculinity that his father was forcing him to be? I bet he has a beard."

"He does have one. And one on his face too, but that's besides the point."

"Poor woman."

"Oh, trust me, they have an arrangement that keeps the both of them happy."

"I take it you've resolved things with your husband then?" Lou asks, absently running her fingertips up and down Debbie's arm now.

"We have. We agreed not to talk about it in detail, for his and the children's safety."

"I'm surprised he didn't ask you to stop," came Debbie's two cents.

Debbie has always been a tad bitter at Ian for taking Tammy away. But then again, Tammy had every right to leave after Debbie all but pushed her aside when Lou came into the picture. But was Tammy bitter? Was she jealous? No, and no. But that's because she _understands_. When she met Lou, she couldn't blame Debbie at all. If she hadn't already been with her future husband back then, she probably would've tried to catch Lou's attention. Granted, it had already been caught.

She'd witnessed the moment Lou and Debbie had cemented their lives together, even if they hadn't realized it. She knew that the world could crash and burn or even freeze over and it would still be Lou and Debbie, Debbie and Lou.

"He said he wants me to, but that he's always known I was a firecracker. It's one of the things he loves most about me so he wouldn't ask me to stop doing what I loved unless _I _wanted to stop. All he asks is that I be careful and to let him know when things get out of hand."

"Which they won't."

"Which they won't," Tammy repeats, proud of her own skills and happy that her friends believe in her too. "I didn't realize how much of a burden it's been, keeping it all from him. And I'm so happy he accepted me for who I am."

"He really loves you, Tam," Lou says, just above a whisper.

"Enough to wait for me if I ever get thrown into prison." Tammy says, knowing full well the implications of such a statement. She doesn't know if her friends are _together_ together or just _alone_ together but she hopes they work it all out soon. She saw them pining after each other all those years ago, and seeing it again during the heist made her want to pull her own hair out.

At the dead silence from the other side of the line, she suspects her words had the desired effect so she drives her point home. "Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve him. But I lucked out. So now I'm going back home to show my love and appreciation for the best thing that's ever happened to me."

A beat passes and Debbie's blood goes cold because Lou has stayed still since Tammy's not-so-subtle jab at their relationship. But it doesn't take long before Lou clears her throat.

"Don't scar them for life."

"If you must know, we're going away for the weekend, on a much-needed, long-overdue vacation together. Honeymoon 2.0, if you will. So I have to go get the kids ready for their weekend at Mom's before we leave tonight." Tammy pauses. "I'm guessing neither of you will be back in time for the lasagna to still be fresh?"

"There's lasagna?" Lou pipes up.

"Yes," Debbie answers Lou, shaking her head fondly. "But no, we're staying here for a while."

Lou pouts a little but Debbie's arm moves from her stomach to around her waist, squeezing her a little, and she's appeased. Instead, she says, "Cons will love you forever if you drop it off at her place. Leslie and V too."

"Noted." Tammy makes a mental note to split the lasagna into two portions for drop-off. "Are you both going to be alright?"

Debbie rolls her eyes despite the tension in the air. "Yes, _Mom._"

Tammy waits Lou out but when she's met with silence, she softly calls out. "Lou?"

"Yes, Tam."

"Are you...sure?" She asks, unsure about how to ask what she wanted to ask.

Lou smiles. "I'm sure. And you don't have to hide it-badly, might I add-Debbie knows."

"Oh." Tammy blinks, but she really shouldn't be surprised. So with the softest voice she only uses with her children, she says, "That's great, Lou. I'm glad."

"Take care, Tam."

"I will and I'll lock up here before I leave," she replies, her smile evident in the way she speaks now. "Love you. You too, Deb. Bye!"

The call ends and they're left with silence. Whether it's comfortable or tense, Debbie's unsure. But then Lou's hand moves and she starts carding her fingers through Debbie's hair again and _they're okay._

"Since when does Tammy end calls that way?"

"I told you, she checked up on me. A lot."

Lou feels Debbie shift to look up at her but she keeps her gaze up, tracing the patterns on the ceiling, because she knows it's easier to talk about this without the added vulnerability of looking into Debbie's eyes.

"She found out even before Harry did—I always made sure I was sober for our monthly calls. Anyway… I got into an accident once, on the bike, and—"

"What?" Debbie asks, pushing herself up into a seated position to look at Lou in alarm.

"It was years ago," Lou tries to brush it off but Debbie wouldn't let her.

"Why have I never heard of this before?" Debbie asks but Lou just gives her a look. "Were you—"

"I wasn't." She said a little sharply. "And I'm sure of that because I remember being on my way _to a bar to get wasted_."

"Lou," Debbie starts, reaching for Lou's wrist and keeping her hold on it. "What happened?"

"Just a few scratches and bruises here and there. A sprained ankle. A fractured rib. A—"

"A fractured rib? _Lou_," Debbie says her name like a curse.

"That was actually better than the huge gash courtesy of a broken street sign."

"How does that—A broken street sign? I don't understand."

"Best not to try. It was a whole thing," she says, shutting her eyes against the clear image of the sky from her vantage point when she was flung off her bike. She shifts on the bed to pull up her shirt and show Debbie the vein-like scar the runs up the side of her ribs and disappears beneath the band of her bra.

And almost instinctively, Debbie leans closer to examine it, first with her eyes and then with her fingertips. At the hitch in Lou's breath, Debbie stops tracing it but keeps the contact.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No, I just…" Lou takes a deep breath. "I've never let anyone touch it."

Debbie pulls back right away. "Sorry, I should've asked—"

Lou reaches for her hand and tugs her closer to let her whole hand span the visible length of the scar. "You're warm," she says, eyes closed, face serene. "'s nice."

"So how did Tammy find out?"

"I was going to a bar to get wasted after Danny told me I couldn't visit you, not even once. And when Rusty heard, he told Danny who then called Tammy. She took care of me for a bit, visited at least once a week. I hated the situation and I hated my injuries and I hated the meds so I drank even more to numb the pain."

She doesn't elaborate more on which pain she was referring to and Debbie didn't have the heart to ask.

"I took it out on her like a teenager high on angst. But whenever I'd tell her I hated her, she'd tell me she loved me too before giving me a kiss."

"A kiss?" She knew she had no right to be jealous or to be annoyed or to even ask out of curiosity but she couldn't help it.

"A kiss," Lou simply confirms with no further details. "She was practically heaven-sent. But she wasn't enough to stop my descent into the bottom of a bottle. I relapsed once during one of my annual visits here and it got so bad that I lied about needing to go back home to deal with something urgent when in fact, I stayed at a hotel to…" She trails off, swallowing the persistent lump in her throat. "Anyway, Sally happened to be visiting her best friend who was staying at the same hotel and she saw me so she told Harry about it. He found me shivering, soaking wet leather from an impromptu cold shower, drowning in my own vomit."

She's silent for a while, loving the way Debbie's thumb is making soothing circles on her rib. "When I woke up, I was in a hospital, a discreet medical center that Sal's best friend recommended, and he was right there, waiting for me to wake up so he could kill me." A half smile appears on her lips as she shakes her head. "That's when I told him about my...habit. And he told me he loved me but he's about to be a dad to twins who would need a hands-on dad and that he'd prefer it if they'd have a sober aunt who spoils them every once in a while."

"You sobered up for him?"

"No. They teach you to make decisions there, make amends. They also teach you not to latch onto anyone but yourself for your sobriety. I'm not gonna lie; he's part of the reason. But life goes on and you have to go on with it; otherwise, you'll get stuck." She pauses, unsure how to describe what she went through in such a way that Debbie would understand. "That did it for me. I didn't want to get sucked in by my own thoughts so I dove headfirst into every bottle I could find. And then I just...didn't want to get _stuck_."

Lou turns her head away from Debbie for a while, a hand discreetly wiping a stray tear as she composes herself. "That meant years of therapy and AA meetings. I still go regularly, although not as often. They've even asked me to be a sponsor and I had to decline because I don't think I'm there quite yet. But maybe soon," she smiles a little before she forces a steely expression, signaling the end of her story.

Debbie tries for a smile but she can tell that while story-time might be over, Lou still had something to get off her chest. So she waits.

"I don't ever want to lose my freedom to choose, Deb. Not again." Lou's voice cuts through the silence. "The illusion of choice when everything about you – your mind, your body – defaults to something else… It's paralyzing. And I haven't been that terrified since the jury read your sentence."

For almost all her life, Debbie Ocean has put herself first, her needs, her desires… She was ready to resume that kind of life when she got out of jail, thinking she deserves it after years of being forced to follow rules and routines she never used to give a damn about. And although she never actually planned on exploiting other people's sympathy for her nearly six-year stay in the slammer, she wasn't exactly opposed to the idea that she deserves to be spoiled by the people who know nothing about what prison was like.

"Lou…" She whispers, resting her head on Lou's shoulder and wrapping her arms around her still exposed torso. But she couldn't bring herself to say the words because sorry will never be enough.

Dear, sweet Lou who is practically perfect in every way deserves the world, not the hell she went through. And suddenly, Debbie is struck with a torrent of guilt and regret. Because while she may have been stuck in an actual jail, Lou had had to struggle with a cage built by her own mind and body, not knowing how and when the war will end. And that's the hardest one to escape from.

* * *

_A/N: Outline's almost done for the penultimate chapter. I thought this wouldn't go beyond 7 but I stand corrected. I wanted to include a chapter each for all the girls but I couldn't figure out how to do all of them organically so just wait and see how they'll appear one way or another in future chapters._


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Notes: So after all the chapters where I digressed _—_ albeit necessarily, for character development _—_ I'm finally going back to where this fic started. Aka time to delve a little into Hollywood celebrity life, or at least what I imagine it to be, and how it figures into the lives of our favorite Heist Wives._

* * *

**C****hapter 7 - there's no greater love tonight than what I've for you**

"Can Aunty Lou and Aunty Debbie come, Dada?"

"Of course, Bubba." Harry starts with the eggs while wrapping some sandwiches. "But did you ask them if they want to?"

Lucas blinks, looking at Louis who then shakes his head before smiling sheepishly. "No," they both answer then run off to find their aunts.

"No running inside the—" He sighs. Who was he kidding? _He _runs inside the house, much his wife's chagrin.

When the house gets eerily quiet half an hour later, he starts suspecting that something must've gone out of plan. He calls to his kids from the kitchen but gets no response so he makes his way upstairs, following the muffled noises, and finds Debbie smiling widely as she leans against the doorframe of Lou's bedroom.

"What's going on?"

Debbie glances at him. "They're trying to wake her up," she says, gesturing to the rest of the party. Harry stays beside her, chuckling at the sight of his twins climbing up and down the mess of blankets that he assumes must be Lou. "I think she's up but they're having fun."

"Have they asked you?"

Debbie hums. "They ran into me on my way out of the bathroom earlier and waited patiently for me to finish preparing for the day."

"Waited _patiently_?"

"Aunty Debbie has her ways," she says, winking at him.

"Uh huh," Harry narrows his eyes. "Your room's a mess, isn't it?"

"Yes! What is up with these creatures?" Debbie admits to the frustration but Harry can clearly see she's fighting hard to hide her amusement.

"One, I'm not sure I appreciate you calling my children 'creatures' even if they most certainly can be real monsters."

The rest of the room erupts in a fit of giggles when Lou finally emerges from her cocoon of blankets and traps both boys in her arms for a tickle fight.

Debbie tilts her head toward the giggling mess on the bed. "I can't imagine _that_ ever getting old."

Harry's lopsided grin is once again on display when he answers, "Never."

"And two?"

"Hmm?" Harry turns to Debbie.

"You said 'one' so there has to be a follow-up."

"No, nothing." He responds, shaking his head vigorously as he mentally counts to three. "Except… Is that you're wearing?" He points to her outfit: an ocean-blue silk dress shirt tucked into black ankle-length slacks and a different pair of stiletto boots, with a trench coat hanging on her shoulders.

"Mhmm."

He grimaces. "Are you sure?"

Debbie scoffs. "Are you seriously going to tell me what to wear?"

"No, I'm telling you what _not_ to wear."

"How is that better?" She faces him and folds her arms across her chest.

"Don't—Don't take it the wrong way. I'm merely making a suggestion. I'm not restricting you because you're a woman or anything of the sort. I like women. In fact, I _love _women. Women can be whatever they want to be and anyone who says otherwise is just scared of what women can achieve. I don't think calling women 'strong' is necessary because you lot are strong in your own right." Debbie's looking at him like he's suddenly grown a second head but he doesn't notice and carries on. "I think it's cool that you're someone that little girls can look up to, you know? If—_If_ they want to live a life of crime. Well, of course, there's that part where you got caught and served time. But now, here you are! Although there's also that part where you can't tell other people how you became a millionaire from the M—"

"Not—" Debbie stops herself and forces a smile. "Not that this whole," she pauses and gestures vaguely at Harry. "_Thing _isn't _cute_," she says for lack for a better word. "But let me just take the shovel off your hands before you dig yourself in even deeper."

"Right, smart move." He clears his throat and scratches behind his ear.

Debbie squints at him for a little while before remembering what brought this conversation on. "How does that even justify telling me what to wear?"

"Oh, it doesn't. I was just letting you know that Lou used to read to me a lot when I was a child – sometimes fictional, other times historical – and those with women warriors and female leaders just happened to be my favorite. I wanted to be Queen Elizabeth for a time when I was younger because I thought it was awesome how she defied odds and declared herself in need of no man to be queen. It was a dream role for me, actually, in our middle school play. Of course, until I...was told I could never pass of as a woman," he hastily explains with what can only be called a poor attempt at not pouting.

Debbie's still looking at him throughout his spiel with her eyebrows rising steadily up her forehead. Does he really like the sound of his voice or does he just not know how to talk _to _women _about _women?

"But if you must know, the comment about your clothing has nothing to do with what I think women could or should wear - which, by the way, should be 'whatever the hell they want' - and everything to do with the fact that it's 88 degrees out there. Also, grass stains on silk? Not a good look and would cost you a steep dry-cleaning bill."

"Haven't you heard of picnic blankets?"

"Sure, for the food. Doesn't mean we actually use one," he says over his shoulder as he goes into the room to fetch his children. "This family loves grraaAASSSS!"

Debbie mock-gasps. "Savages!"

"No, dada!" The boys whine after being pulled away from cuddling their aunt.

"You need to let Lou get ready or we're never making it to the park," he tells them as he lugs them out of the room. He looks at Debbie on his way out and tilts his head in Lou's general direction as if to wordlessly say, "She's all yours."

Debbie leans her head against the doorframe, observing Lou's relaxed and tousled form still tangled in her blankets and sleep-addled with a content smile on her face. Some of her hair is sticking up and her face is bare but damn, she is beautiful.

Lou finally sits up and rubs a hand down her face. "I love those monkeys but I'm so glad I don't have them on a regular basis. It's ass o'clock in the morning, for fuck's sake," she groans into her hands.

"Actually," Debbie starts as she makes her way to the bed and settles beside Lou. "It's 9:40." Lou just looks at her like she's somehow proven her point. "And I agree, as adorable as you are with them—You _are_! Oh, shut up." Lou raises her hands in surrender and drops them back down on her lap. "As _adorable_ as you are with them, there are just some things you can't do with children around."

She watches Debbie and her mischievous smile as she toys with Lou's loose tank top, particularly the strap that slid off her shoulder when she sat up, before slowly lifting it into place.

"Behave yourself, Ocean," Lou jokingly reprimands. Her voice is slightly more hoarse than normal but that's because she just woke up. _Only _because she just woke up.

Debbie bats her eyes, feigning innocence. "What—I was talking about _sleeping in_."

"'Course, you were. Never mind that you never actually sleep in."

Debbie tilts her head and shrugs. "I've never had a reason to," she answers quietly and looks deep into Lou's eyes behind her unruly fringes.

Lou stops mid-laugh when she sees that Debbie's fake, innocent act has become a sincere, loaded one that's slowly but surely drawing her in against her will. It would be so easy to close the remaining distance, to fall into this abyss again, and to get lost in all things Debbie Ocean. She doesn't remember wanting anything more than this – to pull Debbie back down on the bed and be _her_ reason to sleep in and more. But just as she's beginning to lean forward, she remembers herself and flinches, pulling back all of a sudden as if she'd been burned.

"I…" She blinks, unsure what to say until ultimately, her brain fills in, "Need to pee."

She gets up without waiting for a response and retreats into the safety of the en suite. As she leans against the bathroom door with her eyes closed, she certainly doesn't think about the almost wounded—or was it disappointed?—look on Debbie's face the moment she pulled back.

A little over half an hour later, Lou makes her way down the stairs, freshly-showered and made-up. Given the weather outside, she'd chosen to wear a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up, tucked into a pair of tight, dark jeans, a leather vest hanging open, and low block-heeled black leather boots with her signature smattering of accessories. She's decided against wearing a jacket but she's sporting a blood red pair of sunglasses that matches the tie that's tucked in between her breasts.

Debbie absolutely _hates _that the buttons had been left open so low on her chest because blinding sun or not, her attention is bound to get drawn in. She's kind of bummed that Lou gets to look dashing and debonair like that one space pilot from the nerdy series of films that Lou not-so-secretly loves. For some reason, the name escapes her despite remembering the many times Lou had dragged her into watching it with her. Granted, she might have spent those movie nights watching Lou quote all the films instead of actually watching them.

Harry, who is in shorts, sneakers, and a tight golf shirt, passes by with the last of their picnic paraphernalia. "Nice! Very Han Solo."

_And there's the name_, Debbie mentally notes. From the corner of the room, she frowns at Harry. "She looks like she's going on a space adventure with her animal co-pilot." She crosses her arms over the dark gray dress and light denim jacket complete with some strappy sandals (all borrowed from Sal's closet) she's now donning.

"Oh, so you _were _paying attention during movie night," Lou teases with a smirk. "And Chewie's a Wookiee."

"That means nothing to me."

"He's a humanoid, Deb, not an animal. Come on," she shakes her head then smirks. "Nice outfit, by the way."

Debbie just stares at Lou. "Sure." Then she turns her attention to Harry. "Why aren't you telling _her_ to change?"

"Denim is better than silk." Harry simply explains before he sets everything down to sweep Lou up into a bearhug she doesn't even bother resisting.

"Must you always do this?" She lets her head hang as her feet do. She rolls her eyes but her lips are twitching, fighting a smile.

"Yes, and don't you forget it." He sets her down, lightly kissing her temple.

This display of unapologetic affection still sort of makes Debbie's eye twitch from mild discomfort and the easy way Lou accepts it irks her even more.

Lou turns to Debbie and explains, "He's been doing this since he got here. I wasn't around when he had a growth spurt; now he just keeps showing it off like I weigh next to nothing."

Why does he get to do that so openly when less than an hour ago, Lou flinched away from her touch? But it wasn't her touch that had Lou pulling back, was it? It was—

"Deb?" Lou calls when she gets no response from Debbie, not even eye contact. "Deb."

"Hmm?"

"You alright?" Lou asks from way closer than Debbie remembers her being. "I've been calling you. It's time to go."

"Right."

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, of course." Debbie gives Lou a sweet smile.

She knows she shouldn't be jealous. Not of Lou's _brother_, of all people. It's not fair to demand attention and certain liberties when she hasn't given Lou the same privilege; or, rather, not when she hasn't let Lou know that she's always had that privilege and that she always will. So she squares her shoulders and sucks it up.

**\- x -**

The three adults go out to the local park with the twins. Lucas, who likes dinosaurs, prefers to be piggy-backed on Lou as if he were riding one. And Louis, who constantly dreams of flying with dragons, is seated on his father's shoulders – the highest point he could reach while mobile. Debbie quietly follows both pairs, worried she'd feel like the fifth wheel the whole day trip. But she really need not worry.

"Aun'y Deb?" Louis asks, craning his neck to look up at her once they've all settled down with the picnic spread up and out.

"Uhh." She's surprised at the tiny voice calling to her so she turns her gaze down towards him, eyes flitting between the boy and Lou, awkwardly responding with, "Yes?"

"Wanna p'ay catch wif me?"

She blinks. And then again. She can feel all eyes on her and she flushes pink. "You know, I, uh," she starts, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've never actually played catch before," she admits.

Louis gasps, both hands covering his mouth in an overly dramatic way that almost has Debbie rolling her eyes. "Never?"

"Mm-mm," Debbie replies, shaking her head.

"Never _ever_? Dada!" The little boy shouts, grabbing Debbie's hand, much to her surprise. "We hafta teach Aun'y Debbie, we hafta!"

"Alright, Bubby. I'll be right there." Harry turns to Lou who has Lucas seated on her lap, silently learning to read an animal alphabet book, only occasionally needing Lou's guidance.

"You alright here?"

Lou smiles. "Yeah. Go give Deb a real childhood experience. Her family had a very...different idea of fun." When Harry tilts his head in silent question, she explains, "Let's just say she didn't get so good at what she does overnight. Start 'em young, right?"

"Oh. Seems…fun."

"As a hobby, sure. But if it were deemed more important than even school?"

Harry turns his head in Debbie's direction only to see his son dragging her by the hand to whatever patch of grass he decides is perfect for catch.

"I see."

Much later, after a vigorous game of catch that then turned into a game of tag with Lou and Lucas joining in, they all practically collapse onto the blanket, with Lou distributing sandwiches. When Harry starts sharing a rather embarrassing story from the past, Lou shoves her sandwich into his mouth, causing everyone to erupt in laughter.

That's when Debbie sees it, something shiny in the distance reflecting light from behind a couple of bushes.

"Deb?" Lou asks when Debbie stiffly moves to seemingly shield Lou from the sunlight while making it look like she's simply leaning against her friend.

"Turn around."

"What?"

"Just—just turn around." Lou does as she's told, putting her sunglasses on in the process. "I think I saw someone taking pictures," Debbie says quietly enough that only the adults could hear.

"Fuck," Lou mutters under her breath and doesn't resist when Debbie pulls her closer.

With their light lunch done a little later, they decide to cool down in the pool at home or the beach nearby so they pack up and head back to the car. On their way back, they notice a few more vultures trying so hard to get their pictures.

"This is the part I hate about my job. When fans do it, it's fine. But these people, they lie about these pictures and make money out of it."

"True, but you do have to constantly be visible," Debbie somehow reassures him. "Unlike us," she adds, consequently making him realize how much trouble both women would be in if they get recognized while _on the job_.

"I'm sorry," he says but Debbie brushes him off, saying it's not really his fault.

"Lou! Lou, hey," Debbie whisper-shouts out of the paps' earshot.

"Yeah?"

"I've got an idea."

Lou glances at her and sees that tell-tale sparkle in her eyes that says she's got a plan. She sighs. "Please tell me you're not planning on running a job with the twins here and cameras everywhere?"

"No, not a job. At least, not quite."

Lou stops walking for a while and searches Debbie's face for _something_, then she squints. "Am I gonna regret this?"

"I hope not," she responds, wrapping her arm around Lou's shoulders. "Don't kill me," she whispers into Lou's hair.

Before Lou can even ask what she meant by that, Debbie's already planting a lingering kiss on her temple before nuzzling her neck, keeping both their faces away from the cameras. Debbie can feel Lou's body tense up before it slowly starts to relax. When she pulls away, her hand slowly makes it descent on Lou's arm to wrap around her waist, her other hand reaching for Lou's to lace their fingers together and plant another kiss on Lou's knuckles.

"That's one way to do it," Harry chuckles when they finally get to the car.

However, when they finally get home, both Lou's and Debbie's phones go off with notifications from their group chat with the girls, particularly from Leslie.

Apparently, more stealthy paparazzi shots have come out that deliberately cut Debbie out. And none of them were of Debbie cozying up to Lou.

"I know, honey. They've never done this before." Harry's voice filters in to the kitchen as he makes his way down the stairs after the twins, now down for a nap, had a proper video chat with their mother. "Ever since your career as a director kicked off, they've been trying to make this 'trouble in paradise' a thing for us. It can't be easy for you, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. It's not your fault. I just wish Lou wouldn't have to go through this. I know she hates this kind of attention." Sal's reply comes a little more static in quality. "Is she there with you?"

"She is," Harry confirms and turns the laptop to face Lou as she's cooking dinner.

"Hi, Sally." Lou greets her sister-in-law with her familiar sort-of-unstable wink. "How's Norway?"

"So, so cold. I can't wait to feel the LA heat again." The screen goes shaky as Sal moves to her bed. "It's good to see you, but it'll be better when I get to hug you in three days."

Lou huffs and moves to the stove behind her, pretending to check on her cooking to hide her smile. "Why are you both such huggers?" She secretly loves it but no one will ever hear her admit it.

As Sal and Harry's chuckles die down, they sigh, basking in the comfortable silence while longing for each other's warmth.

"Hey, baby," Debbie, unaware of the video call, makes a beeline for Lou, a hand naturally settling on Lou's hip as she peeks at what Lou's cooking. "Is that what I think it is?" She asks, unusually giddy.

"It is," Lou answers, giving Debbie a quick smile and a sideways glance.

Debbie groans. "You are the absolute best!" She gives the side of Lou's head a loud smack, much like the one Lou gave her the first time they met post-prison, and nearly jumps when an unfamiliar voice speaks up.

"Hello. You must be Debbie."

Debbie turns and notes the warm smile Harry's sporting and finally notices the laptop facing their direction. "Uhh… Hello." She gives the woman on the screen an awkward wave. "Are you Sally?"

Lou's laughter fills the air while Harry facepalms. "Yes, she is _Sally_," Lou says, still grinning.

Sal's face briefly contorts in disgust before a wide smile takes over. "Alright, I'll give you that. But only because you make Lou happy."

Lou and Debbie suddenly tense up, unable to look each other in the eye and therefore unaware of how they're both blushing like teenagers.

Debbie clears her throat. "I hear you're coming back soon?"

"In three days," she nods. "I'll finally get to meet you in person. I hear you're a hit with the boys."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Debbie laughs, almost awkwardly. "I'm not really a kid person. They just enjoy teaching me…kid stuff. And showing me all their toys. It's actually funny how they do it like they're letting me in on a little secret."

Sal leans back against her pillows, brows lifting in amusement. "Yeah, the _secret_ being that they like you. Kids do that, especially since they're not yet equipped to properly express their emotions."

"Oh." Debbie's voice has suddenly gone soft as she processes this new information.

"When I get back, maybe we can have a barbecue, if you'd like."

Lou snorts, "You'd finally have a reason to say that line you've been practicing since we met."

Harry perks up. "What line?"

"...prawns on the barbie?"

Her horrible attempt at an Australian accent has all three Australians' noses crinkling – one in fond exasperation (Lou), one in amusement (Sal), and one is exaggerated disgust (Harry).

"We don't actually say that."

"There, there, honey. You're still the best." Lou says in a mocking tone, as if she were talking to a child. "Now, open?"

Lou blows on a steaming spoonful of dark, viscous liquid. Debbie's mouth opens before Lou's even satisfied the heat of the curry won't burn her tongue. This, this is why Lou loves cooking for Debbie. She eats like a hungry sailor almost every time and it does wonders for her ego.

Debbie moans obscenely. "I think this is even better than the last time, baby. I could eat you all day!"

Debbie had certainly been referring to the curry but Lou flushes nonetheless. Harry shares a knowing look with his wife through the screen.

"Alright, I'll let you go now. Dinner seems…" Sal clears her throat. "Lovely. Although to be fair, it always is when either of you are in-charge."

"You'll get the hang of it soon, honey."

Sal chuckles, "I love you and your optimism but no, too many burnt pasta dishes have made me realize it simply isn't for me."

Debbie snorts. "If it makes you feel any better, I burn _water_."

"She really does. It's a talent." Lou interjects, her expression serious as a heart attack.

"Why, yes, that does make me feel better."

Over dinner, Harry gets a notification about Sal's new Instagram post. When he opens it, he groans upon seeing his own relaxed face smushed against a pillow – so relaxed, indeed, that he's drooling from his open mouth – but he ultimately finds it cute anyway when he reads the accompanying caption.

_"__Why do some people find it easier to fabricate lies than to search for truth? I'm glad you're not one of those people. Thank your 'mistress' for this photo. Love you, honey. I'll be home soon."_

However, the general public have already started bearing down on it, with half of them saying it's the sweetest thing ever and the other half claiming it's a sad attempt at keeping things together despite the looming scandal.

Harry brings it up with Lou and Debbie and Lou's anger at how twisted people can be makes her forget about wiping off the curry that spilled over her lips.

"It'll be fine, baby. The next time we go out, we just have to double our efforts, make them believe you belong with me, not your brother, and all will be right with the world." Debbie reaches over and wipes the curry off the corner of Lou's lip with her thumb before putting said thumb in her mouth.

Lou just blinks at her and Harry's gaze silently flits between both women, unsure about what he's waiting for but also unwilling to miss anything. Except, there's nothing to miss because even when Debbie finally realizes what she said and did, she simply forces herself not to make a big deal out of it and Lou follows her lead. It almost has Harry wanting to pull his own hair out. Watching these two pine after each other is exhausting but he's not about to rush them if they're not ready.

Later, Lou and Debbie make their way upstairs in silence but Lou stops Debbie before she disappears into her room.

"Are you sure this is a great idea?" Lou gestures between the two of them.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

_Because I'll believe it and it'll hurt. _"Shouldn't we just avoid being seen instead of making a bigger scene with a fake relationship?"

"Hate to break it to you, baby, but as long as we're out with your brother, we're gonna get noticed. We can't just stay inside for the rest of the month." Debbie knows that more than the repercussions that being in the limelight would have on a life of crime, Lou, with all her swagger and oozing confidence, absolutely _loathes _being the center of attention. She takes a step closer to her partner and takes both her hands. "And we sure as hell won't let them dictate whether you get to enjoy your time together or not."

"But it's not just me and Harry; it's Sally too. And you."

"I don't mind. And she said so herself, she _knows _the truth and that's what matters."

"And if _your_ name comes up?" Lou asks. "All they'd find out about me is that I own a club in Manhattan. You, on the other hand, are—"

"A hot piece of convict ass cozying up to you?" Debbie smirks. "The stuff of little girls' dreams."

Lou looks at Debbie in disbelief. "That is so wrong on so many levels."

Debbie shrugs. "Well, it's true for this girl," she gestures to herself. "Now stop worrying your pretty little head, baby. We're going to make the most out of this." She lightly taps Lou's cheek with her knuckles before she turns to leave.

"Yeah, I'm worried about that too," Lou mutters when Debbie turns the corner.

Debbie's head pokes back out. "What?"

"What?" Lou blinks innocently.

"Did you say something?"

"No, did _you_ say something?"

Debbie's eyes narrow and Lou mentally kicks herself because that's not suspicious at all.

"Good night, Deb."

"Good night, baby."

If Lou weren't so hung up on the tabloids and their fake relationship, she would've noticed that Debbie has increasingly been calling her 'baby' since she got here. But maybe it's her brain subconsciously telling her not to get her hopes up.

* * *

_A/N: Fake relationship, here we go! Raise your hand if you love this trope on top of mutual pining. It's not my personal favorite but it's right up in that alley. Oh, and btw, I can already see the ending so I will finish this, for sure; it's just a matter of writing it down now._


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Notes: So sorry this is a few days later than usual. It wasn't even that I've been busy. The network just failed and then the electricity did. I'm not even surprised at this point given the water crisis. What you get when you live in a country where it's eternally summer, I guess. Or, you know, when said country is being governed by an asshole who cares more about stroking his dick than actually giving a fcuk about the people._

_ANYWAY, another one of our girls makes an appearance here. Guess who?_

_Btw, to those who left reviews here about how there aren't any good Loubbie fics, go to **ao3**; let me tell you, there are A LOT.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 8 - if you feel the same way for me, then let go**

"Hey, Sal's best friend decided to tag-along when she heard that Sal was coming home so we invited her over for the barbecue." Harry's gruff voice filters in from the speaker of Lou's phone. "Be on your best behavior."

Lou's jaw drops and she glances at Debbie. "I think I'm offended?"

"I wasn't talking about you."

"Ouch," Debbie interjects but her grin speaks of mischief.

"I knew I was on speaker. Anyway, she knows the rumors aren't true but if you really want to sell your _relationship_, now's probably the best time for a test-drive."

"Gotcha," Debbie answers then gets out of the car before Lou even opens her mouth.

Not that she was planning to. She didn't really know what to say. She just tried to block it out of her system until the time came to play the part of Debbie's lover. It wasn't that she'd have a hard time pretending to be into Debbie. It wasn't even that she was scared of letting everyone else know she had feelings for her best friend. It was more that she was terrified that _Debbie herself_ realizing her best friend was in love with her might cause her to leave. Again. And even the possibility of that makes Lou want to just give up this whole shebang.

They're making a last-minute grocery run for their barbecue. Lou's just grabbed a few more bottles of sparkling water as they're walking in aisle 16, when Debbie gently pries one of her hands off the shopping cart, tugging to make her body face Debbie's.

She looks at their joined hands then back up at Debbie. "What's wrong?"

Debbie rolls her eyes. "Nothing's wrong, baby, I just wanted you to look at me."

_I could do that all day_, Lou thinks but she just blinks. "O-kay?"

Debbie smiles a little, trying to hide her nerves from Lou's inquisitive gaze. "Kiss me."

"What?" Lou's eyes are wide as she takes half a step back without pulling away completely.

"If we're gonna do this, we're doing it right. I don't want to be surprised when it happens in front of the people we're putting on a show for."

Putting on a show? The phrase somehow raises Lou's hackles but instead of retreating, she wraps an arm around Debbie's waist, pulls until their bodies are flush against each other, and stares deep into Debbie's eyes which are already hooded, focused solely on Lou's lips.

Their lips almost brush when Lou's low voice asks, "Is this the kind of show you were aiming for?"

"Not quite." Debbie answers just as softly before she buries a hand in Lou's hair and closes the remaining distance to claim Lou's lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

Lou grazes her teeth along Debbie's bottom lip when they come up for air and it has Debbie nearly growling before diving back in. Neither of them even realize that Lou had already walked them both backwards and trapped Debbie's body between hers and the line of refrigerators.

It could've been minutes or even just seconds but it felt like they were suspended in time with Lou making her way down Debbie's neck. But just as Debbie's hand slides down to cup Lou's ass, a throat clears and the spell is broken.

"Not that this ain't hot and all, because it was," the young man who'd interrupted them makes vague gestures towards them with one hand, his other hand resting on his jutted-out hip. "I'm not even into women but giiiiiiiiirl, mm-mm," he says, fanning himself. "It just felt like it was going _somewhere_, if ya know what I mean, so maybe y'all should finish what y'all started somewhere no one will interrupt."

Both women were blushing so hard. "Sorry," Lou mutters but her expression morphs into anything but when she notices the little marks she'd unintentionally left on her partner's neck – her partner who still looks a bit dazed, so she's feeling a little smug.

"Mhmm," he replies with a raised eyebrow. "I'm just sorry you were blocking my bubly. Otherwise, I would've let y'all carry on." He opens the fridge door and grabs a couple cans of the drink before he moves to leave. After a few steps, however, he turns back to them. "I'm happy for you. Y'all are an inspiration!"

"Uh, thanks?" Debbie finally speaks.

He winks before he twirls and goes his own way.

Lou clears her throat, refusing to look at Debbie. "Just one more thing on the list and we could go."

Debbie lays a gentle hand on Lou's elbow and waits for the latter to look at her. "That was a hell of a kiss, baby," Debbie smirks, running a thumb under Lou's bottom lip as if she were wiping off traces of lipstick.

Lou blinks. If Debbie's willing to treat this lightly, then so will she. She moves her arm so that Debbie's light grip on her elbow could slide down her forearm, lacing their fingers together. "Right back at you, honey," she pulls Debbie's hand up and kisses the back of it before leading the way to the counter.

When they arrive back at the mansion, Lou fetches the groceries from the backseat and Debbie waits for her at the doorstep. They look at each other and nod.

Debbie reaches for Lou's free hand. "Here goes noth—"

The door bursts open to reveal Sal's best friend. "What took you so long?" She had meant it as a dramatic introduction to the supposed 'mistress' but what she sees makes her smirk, pop her hip, and lean against the door jamb with her arms crossed. "What took _you _so long?" She asks instead, eyeing both women up and down.

"Daphne?" Lou and Debbie say in unison when they're able to shake off their shock but Daphne's gaze was locked on their intertwined fingers.

"I don't know why you guys are here but frankly, I don't care because _I knew it_!" She exclaims, throwing her arms around both women, not caring that Lou almost drops the bag of groceries. When she pulls back, she's already got her phone out. "I can't wait to tell the girls!"

Lou quickly retracts her hand from Debbie's to reach for Daphne's phone. The abrupt movement has Debbie turning to Lou in surprise.

"Don't—" Lou pauses, calms her voice. "Do that. This is… It's not what you think."

But Daphne raises an eyebrow at Lou's statement because right now, her attention has zeroed in on the marks visible on Debbie's neck. "You sure about that?" When neither of them respond, she rolls her eyes gesturing at Debbie's neck. "Are you gonna tell me those aren't hickeys then?"

"Hickeys?" Debbie frowns in confusion before she gasps, hand coming up to cover her neck as she flushes. "Lou!"

With a matching blush, Lou moves past Daphne to set the groceries down on the kitchen counter. "I'm sorry, I was busy—"

"Clearly," Daphne interjects with a shit-eating grin as she follows Lou back inside.

Debbie pauses by a mirror to look at the damage. "Oh, god. They're visible from a mile away!" Arguably.

"You seemed to enjoy it at the time," Lou says in defense.

Debbie gives her a pointed look. "I did! But why didn't you tell me? I was walking and driving around with these," Debbie says, pointing at her neck. "And I didn't even know it." Her eyes suddenly widen as she plops on a chair by the counter, head in her hands. "Oh god, so _this _is why that young couple screamed at us."

"What?"

Lou explains, "There was a couple in the car beside us at the stop light. They shouted, 'That's hot!' when they were looking at us."

Daphne shrugs, "They're not wrong." When Debbie glares at her, she steps closer to Lou, almost hiding behind the blonde. "What? You're hot, Lou's hot. Makes for some smoking hot visuals." Daphne winks and flings an arm around Lou's shoulders when the latter simply snorts. "Don't you think?"

Lou purses her lips, trying not to smile but a lopsided grin forms anyway when she gives Daphne a sideways glance. "Darling, you have no idea."

This makes Daphne perk up with a playful purr that makes Debbie roll her eyes. "Please stop picturing us naked."

Harry comes in from the back door in time for the tail end of the conversation. He looks at all three women one by one before asking, "Who's picturing whom naked?"

Daphne smirks, "You. We're all picturing you naked."

Lou slaps Daphne's arm off her shoulder with a groan. "Disgusting."

"Hey, don't let your lesbian ass go crapping on what nature has blessed."

Lou grimaces, "My lesbian ass gives zero fucks about what nature has blessed. Just stop perverting this big baby."

Harry beams. "I love you too," he says in delight before leaving a sloppy kiss on top of Lou's head and trapping her in his arms again, much to her exasperation. She looks at Debbie for help but the other woman simply puts her chin on her hand, smiling at her so she just huffs and stops struggling.

"Whoa, whoa, wait. Are the rumors actually true?" Daphne asks. But at Lou and Harry's matching offended expressions, she clarifies, "Not the one about the mistress! I meant the minority rumors that speculate about you spicing up your marriage by adding a third and possibly a fourth—" She briefly glances at Debbie. "Party."

Lou, Debbie, and Harry exchange glances. "We didn't even know those existed."

"Oh, they do. And some _friends_ have warned me that there's a possibility of me getting kicked out of the picture," Sal says from leaning against the door jamb. "Oh, joy," she says sarcastically.

"He wouldn't dare," Daphne warns, glaring daggers at Harry. "Right, Lou?"

"People need to stop making this a thing," Lou sighs.

"Wait," Sal starts, brows furrowed. "How do you know one another?"

Debbie looks between Lou and Harry for any indication that Sal also knew about their _work_ but gets nothing. Fortunately, Daphne takes the reins on this matter.

"Remember when I made headlines because I lost that necklace?"

"Of course, how could anyone forget?" It takes Sal a couple seconds before all the puzzle pieces fall into place. "Oh, my—That was you?" She asks the other two women who shrug, neither confirming nor denying, but Harry smiles widely and raises both his thumbs.

Lou playfully slaps at his hands so he'd let go of her. "That's why you'll never be a good con artist; you're too honest." She flicks his ear, making him yelp.

"What am I seeing?" Daphne gestures with both hands in the general direction of Lou and Harry. "What is _this_?"

Debbie stage-whispers. "Don't feel too bad, Daph. Two decades of friendship and I only found out about all of this two weeks ago."

"My sister has been wanting to introduce us since my wife and I first got here 12 years ago and if my memory serves me right, you've said no to every invitation." Harry frowns, suddenly feeling protective. "How is that her fault?"

"Harry, calm down" Lou gently calls, laying a hand on his arm. "I told her, she knows, and she was joking."

Harry shifts his gaze from Debbie to Lou to Sal, who smiles at him, and back to Debbie. "I apologize."

"That's not necessary, big guy." Debbie smiles and awkwardly pats Harry's other arm. "Wait, 12 years ago?"

"Aye." Harry nods. "Lou visited us when mum died. She stayed with us, helped make arrangements. We didn't have much keeping us there so we came here with Lou."

"Twelve years ago," Debbie whispers, looking at Lou.

Lou, knowing exactly what memory Debbie must be flashing back to, nods solemnly.

_#_

_"__I don't want you to go."_

_"__I don't want to go either, but there's something I need to take care of."_

_Knowing it can't possibly be about any of her partner's deceased parents, Debbie starts to wonder if Lou's just running from the life they were building, from a life of crime, from _her_._

_The fact that Lou'd bought a one-way plane ticket to Australia meant it was an open-ended trip, if not a final one. But thinking about this really wasn't helping so she simply swallows the bile that rises up in her throat at the thought._

_They'd been drinking, a sort of send-off for Lou. And they'd splurged for it, all top-shelf alcohol. She was going to celebrate even if she didn't feel like it, so she opens her mouth to start another conversation._

_"__When are you coming back?"_

_Those were definitely _not_ the words she was planning to say._

_And suddenly the happy facade Lou has put up all night crashes as her shoulders sag. "I don't know."_

_"__Are you sure it's not something I can help you with? I can get Rusty on board because Danny will definitely say yes if it's for you, just as he would for me. Maybe we can even rope Tammy back in again. Maybe—"_

_"__Deb."_

_Just the sound of her name, almost a plea, stops her. The uncertainty permeates and Debbie asks the question she's been dreading the answer to._

_"__Are you—" Her voice cracks but she clears her throat and forces it out. "Coming back?"_

_Lou swallows but the lump in her throat wouldn't budge, not at the way Debbie's voice steadily decreased volume after it cracked, or at the way her normally composed partner looks somewhere in between desperate and panicked._

_Lou doesn't know. She might, she might not. And she doesn't want to say that out loud because she doesn't want even just the possibility of never seeing Debbie again to be real._

_"__I—" Lou starts to answer, shaking her head but suddenly Debbie's right in her space._

_"__Don't answer that," Debbie whispers against Lou's lips right before she claims them, claims Lou as if she wasn't already hers._

_"__Deb, what are you doing?"_

_"__Trying to get into your pants."_

_"__Why?"_

_"__Baby, isn't it obvious?"_

_"__Debbie—"_

_"__Don't you want this?"_

_"__You know I do. The question is, do you?"_

_#_

It was one night, twelve years ago. They both know what happened that night. They remember everything. There may have been alcohol involved but when they came together, there was only passion, need, desperation, release, and something neither of them were ready to acknowledge.

They spent the whole night in each other's arms. And come morning, Debbie pretended to still be asleep because she doesn't handle goodbyes well.

To this day, she couldn't tell if Lou knew she was awake when she left her with a lingering kiss on her forehead, a finger stroking her cheek, and a whispered, "I'll miss you."

Debbie thought that was it, despite keeping in touch through phone calls. But Lou came back, not even two months later. She was in a somber mood and yet somehow, she seemed lighter. She surprised Debbie at the door of the apartment they shared, with a glimmer in her eyes that only slightly dimmed when Debbie gave her a nod before rushing off somewhere else, like it was an ordinary day.

Their lives continued on like nothing happened. Unsurprisingly, they never talked about it.

And now they're here. They're okay. And yet similarly undefined.

"Hold. The fuck. Up," Daphne loudly exclaims, breaking the tension and ending the trips down memory lane. The other four occupants in the room turn to her. "I'm the fuck-up. Hold me?" She reaches her hand towards her best friend. Sal indulges her dramatics and does as she's asked. "Now, is no one going to talk about the fact that Harry called Lou his _sister_?"

"She _is _my sister."

Daphne stares at him then at Lou and back. "Alright, you're both hot and all, and y'all look cute as fuck wrapped in each other's arms but you don't really look alike. Also, I've known you for 15 years, granted three of those were long distance," she pauses, turning her gaze from Harry to Sal. "And you for 20, but I've never heard either of you mention a sister or sister-in-law."

"It's not public knowledge," Harry answers, looking almost sad.

"And we'd like to keep it that way," Lou adds. "You already know his real name isn't Miller but he's a giant sap so he went and used mine as his screen name."

Daphne blinks. "Oh. _You're _Miller." She says to Lou, then perks up in recognition. "You're _Miller. _From five years ago?" She glances at Sal and then Harry before returning her gaze to Lou.

Lou glances at Sal then tilts her head at Daphne. "Dr. Filmore?"

"Dr. Filmore," Daphne looks Lou over, more serious now than she's ever been around any of her new-found friends. "You're okay," she finally assesses.

"I am," Lou says, glancing at Debbie who's already connected the dots by now. "Have been for nearly 5 years." Lou looks at her intensely, trying to communicate her gratitude and surprise at this rather random yet almost serendipitous connection.

"I'm normally really good at faces but I hadn't been able to place yours."

Lou shrugs and makes an attempt at levity. "Probably because I was perpetually shit-faced and dying." It fails spectacularly when she feels Harry's arms tighten almost uncomfortably around her at the memory of her drenched and shivering in withdrawal. She reaches over and lightly rubs at his arm to calm him.

Daphne smiles a little then nods before seemingly switching back to her diva persona. "When we met back in May, I just assumed you were Ocean."

"What?" Both Lou and Debbie answer.

Daphne simply shrugs. "So you're the 'mistress'." She makes air quotes then smirks, looking Lou up and down. "I knew that ass looked familiar."

"Hey!" Debbie interjects.

"Are you protesting about the mistress or about the ass?" Daphne challenges.

Sal, knowing her best friend's affinity for chaos, physically directs Daphne out the back door before she stirs up the pot that neither Lou nor Debbie seems ready to face. "Let's head out for the actual barbecue now, 'kay?"

They're sprawled across the outdoor chaise lounge later that evening, side by side, legs tangled, passing a bottle of sparkling water between them. It was normally a large piece of furniture but with two people occupying it, it's become a tight fit. Not that either of them are complaining. It wasn't that there weren't any other options for chairs. Debbie just found herself seeking out Lou's warmth in the cool night air. So here she is, leaning against Lou, both of them silent yet content.

They were watching as each of Daphne's defenses slowly but surely get breached by Lulu and the twins. She had previously declared—little ears be damned—that she disliked children because they caused her unnecessary stress. ("They're always _sticky_, with or without food. I don't even know how! Pets, too. I mean, it's like having Peter Pan for a child. They never grow up! Who in their sane mind would want that?") But her refusal to dote on them only made them work harder to get her attention. And everywhere the children went, Lulu followed.

"Are you happy?"

It takes Lou a while to process that the question was indeed asked and that it came from Debbie. "What?"

"You heard me."

Lou tries to think back on which conversation may have prompted such a question but she comes up blank. "Okay then, why?"

Debbie shrugs. "I don't know. Tammy just… She told me something about happiness right before you left for California and it just got me thinking."

"About?"

"Things."

"Things?"

"About how much has changed while I was inside." Debbie looks up at the stars, recalling a conversation she had with Lou on her first day in LA. "And how the things that matter stay the same."

Lou hums. "What did she say?"

Debbie turns to look at Lou long and hard before a smile slowly lifts her expression. "Something wise."

_"__You know, more than one thing can make you happy. Have you ever thought about that?"_

She has. And now it's all she ever thinks about when she looks at Lou.

* * *

_A/N: I hope you got that connection between this chapter and the second one (when Lou tells Debbie that Sal's best friend knew a doctor who was discreet), and I hope y'all loved how Daphne fits into all this. Also, I hope the flashback dialogue here was enough to connect the bit that comes (heh, I'm a child) before they had sex in the fourth chapter. And that almost public indecency-_

_Tl;dr  
I hope this chapter sort of ties some loose ends and more than makes up for the tardiness. Cheers.  
_


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's Notes: I legit forgot to update, I'm so sorry! I only went here bc I needed a breather after I bawled my eyes, my heart, my soul out in Endgame and realized I'd left you all hanging. Apologies. Just a heads-up, this might be either the third or second to the last chapter. Depends on how much I end up revising while ~polishing the end._

_Btw, for those of you leaving reviews about how they FINALLY found a good O8 fic... Well, first of all, THANKS T.T. But more importantly, take a dip into ao3; lotsa fish in that ocean ;)_

* * *

**Chapter 9 - we can journey to a garden no one knows**

The test drive with Daphne had gone as well as can be, considering the unforeseen flaws in their plans, mostly due to unexpected _connections_. Harry's publicist Antonia Hill had signed off on their plan to go public.

As a last-ditch effort to get out of this whole _sham_, Lou asks, "Are we absolutely sure this is the best course of action?"

"Baby, we're approaching the restaurant. A bit late to back out now, don't you think?"

"Maybe, but—"

"I thought you trusted Harry's publicist?"

Lou sighs. "I do, Toni's nothing if not competent." Lou's phone chimes signaling a text. "They've arrived."

"And we're a few minutes out." Debbie gives Lou a smile. "Come on, baby."

When they get out of the town car, Lou, who is in yet another one of her fabulous suits, reaches out a hand to help Debbie, who is in a breathtaking dress. Debbie notices a couple of men with cameras out and, despite knowing they're not exactly likely to be snapped _yet_, she puts on a show. She smooths out the lapels of Lou's suit and leans closer to plant a light kiss on the corner of Lou's mouth. She pulls back to the sight of an amused Lou who then offers her arm to Debbie.

The dinner itself goes well. Sal and Harry see a few of their friends but mostly, it's quiet when suddenly one of the restaurant staff stops by to serve champagne.

"Oh, we didn't order—" Harry starts but catches a glint from one of the flutes. "Uh, Debbie? I'm flattered but I'm married and still very much in love with my wife so…" He trails off, trying to look serious but the lopsided grin on his face says otherwise. He knows it's not for him.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Is there something you're not telling us?" Sal gestures towards one of champagne flutes, specifically the one in between Lou and Harry who are seated across each other.

Lou scoffs when she finally catches on. "How ill-advised." When the other three turn to look at her and stare, she clarifies, "It's a choking hazard, for fuck's sake."

"Well…" Debbie half-shrugs dismissively.

"Lou, I think you hurt her feelings," Harry awkwardly whispers towards his sister but the silence in the restaurant from the moment the champagne was served made it so his statement was audible.

Lou laughs outright. "This is clearly _not _Debbie's doing. I mean, it's tacky at best but more importantly, white picket fences and two and a half children don't figure into an Ocean's plans."

Debbie's mouth twists before answering, "Well, she's not wrong." Except, she's not entirely right either. Sal and Harry both seem to deflate at the apparent misunderstanding. "Besides, when I get down on one knee, it won't be like this."

Lou nearly snorts. "Or _for_ this," she mutters for only their table to hear. Debbie playfully slaps Lou on the thigh and keeps her hand right where the impact struck. Lou doesn't seem to mind.

Sal and Harry don't miss the way Debbie's gaze remains on Lou while Lou was busy laughing, nor how Debbie said _when _and not _if_. There may still be hope left.

"So what's gonna happen to this sorry excuse for a proposal?" Lou asks, wiping at the corners of her eye.

"I'll be taking it off your hands, for starters." A voice suddenly answers from behind Lou and they all turn to see Collin Parr, twice-divorced star of what's arguably the largest sci-fi fantasy franchise in recent history. "I may have been vague about my instructions."

Debbie tilts her head, watching him. "What, did you tell them to give it to the hottest woman in this room?" She asks from right by Lou's ear, her breath ghosting over Lou's neck as she subtly scoots closer, squeezing Lou's thigh from where her hand rested. This time, Lou's gaze snaps to Debbie's hand with as much subtlety as possible, swallowing before looking up at the man with a cross between a smile and a smirk on her face. Debbie's behavior could only be construed as posturing, _possessive_, and it takes all of Lou's control not to shiver when she leans against Debbie's frame. "If yes, well," Debbie continues, her voice dropping low when she nuzzles Lou's cheek. "They're not wrong."

Parr blinks, his gaze momentarily stuck on Debbie's hand where her thumb is caressing Lou's thigh through her pants before he clears his throat, tugging at his collar. "I respect that. Even if you called my proposal tacky."

"Oops," Lou says, looking anything but apologetic. "But I won't apologize for calling it a choking hazard because it is."

"Duly noted. And now that I'm thinking about it, it _is _tacky. But, eh," he shrugs. "Feels right."

Debbie's head turns as she presses a kiss against Lou's shoulder and stays, resting her cheek there and reaching for Lou's left hand to toy with her fingers.

"I'm sorry your plans got ruined, Collin," Sal says as she leans over.

Only then does Parr turn to the other occupants of their table. "Well, I'll be damned. Rosalind and Harold King, it's been a while. Last I saw you, you were…" He gestures to his belly.

"Yes, they're turning four in a few months, actually."

"Four? Wow, time does fly when you're—" He cuts himself off when he glances at the other two women and finally recognizes Lou from recent celebrity 'news'. He looks at Harry and finishes his supposed statement as a question. "In love?"

Harry sighs and shakes his head but before he could answer and make proper introductions, Parr's gaze turns back to Lou and Debbie, particularly how there's practically no space between their bodies and how Debbie's hand remains on Lou's thigh except now, Lou's hand has joined hers and their fingers are intertwined.

"I see. Well, as much as I'd like to stay and chat," he pauses, gaze shifting over to somewhere across the room. "She's on her way back from the bathroom and I have a tacky proposal to actually execute." He claps Harry on the shoulder then turns to leave but leans back in before he goes to say, "None of this happened."

But it did. They knew it died. And apparently, so did the rest of the world. Because come morning, all newsstands and websites have a photo of the engagement plastered on the front page. However, in most print and online articles, said photo shares space with variations of the headline, 'Rosalind King and Harry Miller, Swingers?'

_"__A witness to the events leading to Parr's proposal said he overheard Harry Miller assume the ring was meant for him. We have yet to put a name to the face of his rumored mistress but she was seen exiting the establishment with her arm around another woman, whose identity we've uncovered as Deborah Ocean, a convicted felon released almost half a year ago—"_

The screen suddenly goes black, the last picture displayed being of Lou with her arm around a smiling Debbie's shoulders, face hidden behind the curtain of Debbie's hair as she seems to be whispering something in her ear.

"Hey! I was watching that," Debbie complains, twisting in her seat on the couch to find Lou, arms crossed with a severe look in her face. "What's wrong, baby?"

"What's _wrong_? Are you kidding me, Deb?"

"No one's taking the swingers thing seriously, Lou. But if this is about Sal and Harry's image, associating with a known criminal, their publicist already released a statement about us having met at a party. If anything goes south, they'll come out as victims."

"I'm not worried about them. He's been with Toni for years, I know how she works, and I know she'll be able to spin literally anything for them. But…" Lou's voice goes soft as she makes her way to Debbie, to sit on the coffee table in front of her. "Your name, your face, your _history_… It's all out there now." She shakes her head, taking Debbie's hands in her own. "Honey, you can't take that back. And disguises are only as good as the people willing to overlook a pretty face. But, Deb, people know who you are now."

"Give it time, baby, they'll forget about me eventually."

"Oh, they won't forget you even if they tried," Lou says, voice steadily decreasing in volume. "Believe me."

Debbie blinks. Because _what_? She opens her mouth to ask exactly that but Lou's resounding sigh stops her.

"I knew this was a bad idea." She stands suddenly and starts pacing. "We should've just gone off the grid."

"Hey, hey, Lou—Lou, come on. Come here," she starts, taking hold of one of Lou's hands, gently pulling and guiding her to sit beside her on the couch. "So, they know who I am and where I've been holed up recently. I'm fine with it."

Lou looks at her skeptically. Debbie Ocean is not the type to just quit in their line of _business._ She could just imagine how terribly wrong a job could go if Debbie gets recognized.

"How can you be _fine_ _with it_?"

"Because they also know I'm with you and you're with me." Debbie meets Lou's gaze head on when the blonde's head whips around to look at her. "That's what we wanted them to know." _That's what _I _wanted _you _to know, _is what she doesn't say. _Not yet._

"For Sally and Harry," Lou sighs, running a hand down her face.

"Right. Yeah, of course."

And then Lou unexpectedly bursts into laughter. Debbie stares at her, blinking. "Swing—" She barely gets the word out as all her stress about the situation seems to be manifesting in hysterical laughter. "Swingers, Deb. I mean, _Harry_?" She pauses, her laughter taking over. "Swingers!"

Debbie's mind flashes back to Harry's face when he first heard about the headline and it isn't long before she joins Lou in laughter.

Not long after they settle down, Lou's phone lights up with Leslie's face. On video call.

"Y'all need me to wipe both yo' asses this time?"

"Boundaries, Leslie. It's good to have boundar—sh—" Debbie glares at Lou over the hand she has covering the former's mouth.

"No, Leslie. You don't need to scour the internet."

Debbie gently pries Lou's hand away from her mouth and starts idly playing with her fingers. "How did you find out?"

"Girl," Leslie says with an eyebrow raised at Debbie because their pictures were _everywhere_. "Also, V's obsessed with ya boy."

"Right."

"So that's a no on the wipin'? 'Cuz y'all got caught. Together. In a very public restaurant. For them famous people."

"Yeah, no, it was," Lou pauses. "Intentional this time. But thanks for offering."

"Ayt. I'm happy for ya. S'about time."

"For what?" Debbie asks at the same time Lou asks, "Why?"

Leslie looks back and forth between them, gaze briefly flitting towards their joined hands. If they still haven't figured it out, then she won't be the one to burst their bubble. Maybe staying oblivious is their thing; who is she to judge?

"Nuh'n," she finally says, giving them a playful, two-fingered salute before disconnecting.

**-x-**

Daphne has been in negotiations with a number of top brands to endorse their respective perfume lines. But all the offers got her thinking of creating her own line instead. _Just because she can_. And all of that hard work has culminated into the official launch of her new fragrance, for which she'll be holding a pool party at her house in LA to celebrate and she refuses to have it without inviting all the girls.

Once all details have been finalized, she initiates a video call in their group chat to tease them with the view from her house that opens out into a private beach.

Leslie's voice filters in almost instantly from a small corner of the screen. "Damn, girl. Ya know we gon' dig that."

A collection of hums follows and Daphne beams, proud that her new-found friends approve. "That means you're all coming, right? I'll even fly all of you out if I need to. Minus Mom and Dad, of course, since they're only two-hour drive away right now."

"A two-hour drive and living the dream," Constance pipes up. "Oh, wait," she says, raising her hand from the back of Tammy's couch.

Constance had belatedly found out that Debbie had gone to be with Lou in California. And when she did, it was like all the boredom she'd been keeping at bay crashed down on her. So instead, she'd gone to surprise Tammy and the kids with a Funfetti cake, having forgotten about Tammy's husband Ian being back home. There was an awkward stare-down at first, but the children's enthusiasm at her presence and her seemingly endless pool of energy quickly won him over.

"We're not in school, dear," Tammy says, lightly patting Constance on her thigh.

"Joke's on you, I never went to school."

"Ya dropped outta school, meaning ya went; don' lie, Bub." Leslie chimes in.

"Correction: I dropped out of _med_ school."

"You went to med school?" Amita asks, her voice steadily rising. "And you dropped out?"

Constance sort of recoils when all eyes – on and off screen – are suddenly trained on her. "I was on scholarship and like, I dunno, a year in, I just knew it wasn't for me. So like, why would I rob another person of a scholarship?"

"So you went and picked pockets instead?" Amita asks again so Rose reaches out with a hand on her shoulder to stay her.

"Hey!" Constance frowns. "Nothin' wrong with that."

Tammy then softly answers, "Actually, there's everything wrong with that. Picking pockets, I mean, because that's _illegal_. But it's not like any of us can take the high horse there.

"Lou didn't judge." Constance says just as softly, wholly uncharacteristic of her.

_That's Lou for you_, Tammy thinks. "About dropping out, I respect that. At least you knew what you wanted—or didn't want—and went for it. Takes guts, even to quit," she says, gently playing with the younger woman's hair in comfort.

It makes Amita feel bad. "I'm sorry, Cons," she starts. "I wanted to go to law school so badly but my parents wouldn't let me, for any and all the reasons they could think of. Stopped me every time I tried because they thought a woman's job is to marry; they still do, actually. But I shouldn't be taking it out on you, I'm really sorry."

"Nah, we're cool." Constance smiles, fist reaching towards Amita for a bump that Amita's never met halfway. Until now.

Daphne counts to two and a half then goes, "Alright, so is everybody fine? Can we go back to me now?"

"Yes, dear. Go on," Rose answers from her end, making a sweeping gesture with her hand to indulge her before going back to her sewing.

"Pool/beach party in five days, my house in LA, free-flowing drinks, and all the food you can eat. You're all invited. As yourselves or as a cover, as part of the staff or as gate crashers, whatever you want."

"Can V come?"

"She won't be allowed to drink in public but—"

"She won't be allowed to drink _at all_," Rose gives Daphne a pointed look above her glasses and despite several miles of distance connected by a screen, Daphne still feels properly chastised.

"Fine, _at all_, but sure. She can stay with you in your room."

"My room?"

Amita gasps. "We're staying over?"

"Uh, yeah," Daphne obnoxiously says, like she's horrified they're even asking.

"Sweet," Constance remarks, her grin making her look even younger.

"So get your asses on the next plane—"

Tammy's brows furrow a bit. "But the party won't be for another five days, right?"

"Your point being?" Daphne responds, a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised for full effect. "Leave the little rascals with your hubby and come party with me," she says, pouting this time. "Call me when you land."

"Aww, you're meeting us at the airport?" Tammy asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, hand on her chest, because despite her sarcasm, she's oddly touched by the gesture.

Daphne's face twists into an exaggerated frown. "No, what am I, a car service? I'll have Rick pick you up."

"Who's Rick?" Constance asks, with a mouthful of Cheetos.

"My _driver_." The 'duh' is left unspoken but the girls heard it anyway.

"Oh, that reminds me," Rose speaks up. "I will be flying to LA early in the morning to meet a potential client who wants a gown perfect for her Elizabethan-themed wedding."

"Ooh! Let's do Sunday brunch, honey; I do so miss you." Daphne almost purrs then makes air kisses on the camera till a knock resounds on her side of the connection. "Well, that's me. See you girls when you get here!"

**-x-**

"Last week, your brother told me off for wearing silk and now, you show up in _that_, topped with a leather vest?" Debbie jokingly complains, gesturing towards Lou's black cropped bikini top underneath her vest and the tight, ripped jeans she's wearing. "What, are you competing with the LA heat or something?"

"Oh, honey," Lou runs her gaze slowly up and down Debbie's body. "You look like summer on high."

"Just because I'm wearing a sundress courtesy of Daphne? _This,_" she says, pulling at her own dress. "Is not me_._"

"Maybe. But you look hot in anything anyway."

"Or nothing, am I right?" Debbie mutters then snorts at her own statement.

Lou raises an eyebrow. Is Debbie trying to start something? Because they're in public right now with all the cameras and the crowds of famous people and—_Oh._

"Perfect place to show off our _relationship. _Right," Lou sighs and mentally shakes herself. "How do you want to do this?"

Debbie blinks – that certainly wasn't her intention – but then she recovers. "Well, it's a beautiful night so I was thinking we could walk along the beachfront. Hand in hand, maybe a kiss here and there. How do Sal and Harry act when they're in public?"

Lou's smile is genuine and soft when she thinks about them. "They're pretty much the same wherever they are. No pretenses because they never feel the need to adjust to the people around them and—" Her gaze shifts to somewhere beyond Debbie. "Well, exhibit A," she says, nodding in their direction.

Debbie turns to see what Lou's referring to and finds herself chuckling at the sight of the couple alternating throwing chips inside the other's mouth and kissing with every time they score. Just the right amount of goofiness and romance, Debbie muses then fights a shiver when she feels Lou's breath ghost over her exposed neck and shoulders. She hides the effect it has on her by turning around, pressing all up into Lou's space, and slowly unbuttoning her leather vest all the way to leave it hanging open for all to see her toned midriff. She unabashedly checks her partner out. "We could always do it old Hollywood style."

"Which is what, exactly?" Lou knows exactly what Debbie meant but if she's going to end up regretting ever agreeing to this when she's left to quietly nurse yet another broken heart, then she's going to make the most out of it by making Debbie squirm.

Debbie's eyes widen a fraction before she forces a neutral expression that's quickly morphing into a cross between seductive and innocent. And Lou can't help feeling a stirring inside of her. Especially when one of Debbie's fingers starts tracing the hem of her top, so close to her breasts.

"Oh, you know," Debbie pauses, shamelessly ogling Lou. "A little more than what's socially acceptable but a little less than public indecency?"

Lou swallows her groan when Debbie's knuckles _accidentally _brush against a nipple. She briefly looks up to the night sky for a bit more strength and self-control.

"Say it," she says with a low voice and watches Debbie take a breath, her hand suddenly still. She leans closer to her partner and whispers, "You need to say it, honey. Or it's not gonna happen."

Debbie's breath hitches, eyes shut tight as a shiver runs up and down her spine, heat spreading all over her and pooling south of her belly. Lou always did enjoy making her voice her desires, making her verbalize ideas and things that leave her pink _everywhere_. But tonight, Debbie Ocean is a woman on a mission.

She pulls away suddenly, hand brushing Lou's hip on its way to lace their fingers together. "You know, I think I'd like to take that walk first and see where it goes."

"Thought so."

Debbie sees the smug smile on Lou's face, but her eyes are dark and almost dazed. Not even a few feet out onto the beach, she feels a tug deep inside her. She really can't hold back anymore. She wants this. She wants _Lou._

So as they're walking, Debbie pulls on Lou's hand as she maneuvers in her sundress to get on the ground. "Baby, wait just a second."

"What is it? Did you drop something?" Lou tightens her grip on Debbie's hand to steady her before she starts leaning down. "Here, let me help you with—"

Lou cuts herself off because Debbie hadn't dropped anything, she just needed to reach into the skirt of her dress to get to the thigh holster she'd secured there earlier. And right now, the only reason she hasn't gotten up from the sand is because she's down on one knee, holding open a small black velvet box with her free hand; her other hand still clutching tightly at Lou's, not willing to let go now or ever again.

* * *

_A/N: Totally unrelated (or tangentially related, depends on how much of the mainstream references you got in this fic), if y'all wanna unpack your thoughts and feelings about Endgame, my tumblr (same name) inbox is always open without the pressure of showing yourself (hi, anons!). But a quick fyi, I'm primarily a Tony stan (among others) so you know what to do (and what not to do)._

_I'm a good listener! I think? Or at least I respect differences of opinion. I just live for rich, intellectual discussions about your faves, your interests, your lives... Pretty much anything that could keep me from the dealing with the very real shit I should be facing. I'm a responsible adult like that ;)_


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Notes: I apologize for yet another late upload but I went on a rather impromptu vacation after Endgame ruined me and there was barely any reception where I was so I had to wait till I got back to get this up._

_But this is it. I want to thank you all for taking this journey with me. I have another idea on the horizon but it might take a while before I get back to this fandom. I've got several Endgame fix-it ideas (that I'm sure I'll never get to anyway) because I'm already swamped enough with two jobs plus school so I think I'm gonna need to be a more responsible human being. But lbr, I'm gonna fail at that and I'll be back. See y'all then!  
_

* * *

**Chapter 10 - the world could die and everything may lie, still you shan't cry**

_Debbie hadn't dropped anything, she just needed to reach into the skirt of her dress to get to the thigh holster she'd secured there earlier. And right now, the only reason she hasn't gotten up from the sand is because she's down on one knee, holding open a small black velvet box with her free hand; her other hand still clutching tightly at Lou's, not willing to let go now or ever again._

"Deb, honey," Lou starts off slowly, as if she were approaching a caged animal. "What are you… What are you doing?"

"Baby, I think this gesture means pretty much the same here as it does in Australia."

From somewhere in the growing crowd, Amita exclaims, "Finally! I've developed indigestion, trying to keep this a secret like I'm part of a non-sci-fi version of the Marvel universe; I've been _so_ stressed out."

"Dude, you knew?" Constance asks, lightly poking Amita with her elbow. "Not cool."

"I made the ring, duh," Amita explains and ducks her head when she realizes both Lou and Debbie are staring at her, in shock and in exasperation, respectively.

_#_

_"__I need another favor. And before you ask, it's nothing like the Met."_

_Amita eyes Debbie warily. Her expertise mainly falls under stones and metal, and as far as she knows, Debbie's never really been into jewelry. Unless to steal them, obviously. "Okay."_

_"__You can't tell anyone. And I mean, _anyone._" Debbie looks Amita in the eye, her expression even more serious than when they'd been preparing for the Met Heist. "You have to swear."_

_"__I—" A nervous laugh escapes Amita. "I don't know, Debbie. You know how much I love a good gossip."_

_"__Not this time, Amita. Think of it as a job. You kept the secret about making additional replicas from the others."_

_"__Yes, but it's messed up my metabolism! I think." At Debbie's eye-roll, she adds, "And at least I had Lou to talk to about—Wait, what's the favor? And why aren't you asking Lou instead? Why isn't she here?"_

_"__Because out of everyone, Lou should never _ever _find out."_

_Amita gives her a look that's all kinds of skeptical. "What's wrong? Are you two okay? Do I need to call Tammy?"_

_"__Yes, but—What?" Debbie looks at Amita with her head tilted in confusion until she sees the phone Amita's waving beside her. "Why—_Why_ would you need to call Tammy?"_

_"__For...damage control?"_

_"__Damage control? What? No. We're working through some things but we're fine. We're great. We're amazing."_

_"__That's usually what people say when things are falling apart."_

_Debbie looks to the ceiling for patience. "Amita, for Christ's sake, I want you to make a ring!"_

_"__A ring?"_

_Debbie sighs and just pulls out the blue diamond she's been rolling around in her pocket since she left the loft this morning. It takes Amita a moment before she connects the dots. And really, Debbie should've foreseen this but in all of her planning, she forgot to prepare for what is possibly the worst trauma her ears have ever and, hopefully, would ever experience._

_Just as the ringing in her ears starts to subside, Amita's squeal turns into little choked sounds. "Oh my god, I didn't even know you were already _together-_together! This is the best news ever. I just—I'm over the moon!"_

_"__It's not—We're actually—I mean, nothing's happened, really. And nothing's changed but…" Amita's frown gives her pause. She hadn't really given this decision much thought. She just knows that it makes sense, that it feels right. "I'm _sure_."_

_"__I kinda wish Danny was here to see this. He'd be so excited to walk you down the aisle."_

_Debbie shakes her head. "Not before he gives me so much shit for taking so long."_

_"__Hmm."_

_"__He, uh, pretty much predicted this." Debbie licks at her lips, scratching her nape at the memory. "Asked how long Lou and I had been together when he first met her. Asked when we'd tie the knot after the first job we ran with him and his crew."_

_Amita perks up even more. "And how did Lou react?"_

_"__Oh, she didn't know. Thank god for small miracles, right?"_

_"__Then…" Amita, pauses, chewing her bottom lip. "Don't take this the wrong way but, why _did_ it take so long?"_

_Debbie half shrugs, smiling almost sadly. "Timing?" She shakes her head. "We're idiots. Or, at least I am."_

_Amita squints at her for a little while before she turns back to the diamond in her palm, uncharacteristically silent._

_"__What, that's it? Aren't you supposed to say 'No, you're not, you just needed time.'?"_

_"__You mean I'm supposed to _lie_?" Amita retorts, batting her lashes in feigned innocence._

_"__Fuck you too, Amita."_

_"__No," she says, managing to keep a straight face. "When you finally get down on one knee, _Lou _will fuck _you_. Gladly. For the rest of your lives."_

_Debbie's face contorts this way and that, unsure how to respond and uncomfortable with the heat spreading up her neck, cheeks, and up the tips of her ears. So instead, she chucks a crumpled piece of paper she finds on the table straight towards Amita's head._

_For the rest of their lives? Well, how about that?_

_#_

"Listen," Lou whispers as she moves closer. "You don't have to do this, Deb. It doesn't matter what story we tell them; they'll twist it way out of proportion anyway. If they still don't believe it, then who cares?"

"I do. I care, because they shouldn't be calling you names except your own." The determined expression on Debbie's face relaxes into an easy smile. "Although I wouldn't be opposed to hearing them call you by mine. Miller-Ocean has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Stop."

"No, Lou—"

"_Stop. _This has gone far enough, don't you think?"

"Lou—"

"Toni's already done damage control. Just one more week, and we could put all of this behind us." Lou shakes her head and looks up to the skies for some strength. "Sal and Harry appreciate our efforts and at this point, I really don't care what the tabloids say—"

"Louann Ilithyia Miller!" Debbie interrupts. Upon gaining Lou's full attention, she sighs then smirks; using her full name works every time. "Hollywood can go to hell. I don't care who sees. This is me, Lou. And I want you."

Silence.

"Are you—Deb, is this—"

"Real? Yeah, baby. You are not just my first call; you are my only call, the only one that matters."

Lou huffs but her eyes, still wide and incredulous, remain locked on Debbie's. "If this turns out to be a joke, I will—"

"It's not. It's _not._" Debbie emphasizes her point by squeezing the hand she still has in her grasp. "And it's not a lie either. Because I may lie—and I do, a lot—but never about this and never to you. You weren't wrong when you said the white picket fences and two and a half children weren't part of my plan. But that's because I don't have one. I don't care what it'll look like or what it'll become, as long as it's with you. It's always been you."

Lou stares at her, all other sounds drowned by the pounding in her chest. "Are you doing this to prove you're staying this time?"

_This time. _Okay, that hurt. But it's fair.

"No, baby. How many times do I have to promise I won't ever leave again before you start believing me? I'll do it every day for the rest of my life if I have to."

Lou wants to apologize for doubting Debbie but this is all so sudden and overwhelming. She knows what she wants. She's known for _years_. But can it really be this easy? Can she really just take it as it's being offered on a silver plate? Or, more accurately, on a platinum ring with a huge-ass blue diamond?

"I'm doing this because I love you." At this, she sees Lou's eyes widen even more. "I _love _you. I probably have since that first night we met. Or that first successful job we ran together when you were so nervous but got into character anyway, like a pro. Or the night you drove me around New York on your motorcycle – I hated what it did to my hair but I loved having my arms around you." Lou scoffs at this but she's doing quite poorly at hiding her smile. "Or that first time you cooked for me. Or the first time_ I_ cooked for you and you had to throw away your favorite pan—"

"It was our _only _pan," Lou couldn't help adding, the amusement on her face overpowering the exasperation.

"—because I ruined it beyond repair and we ended up staying at a motel because we couldn't get the burnt smell out of our apartment. Or the one time I got sick and made you miserable with how horrible a patient I was—"

"Still are."

"—but you nursed me back to health anyway. Or that night you gave me the best sex of my life—it's true, you can be smug about it. Guess being a player really does pay off in that department, huh?"

"I knew it!" Tammy whisper-shouts and it somehow carries over to Lou who then finally realizes they've got an audience, and a huge one at that. But it doesn't matter.

Lou chuckles nervously before responding. "Do you know why I got the reputation of being a player?"

Debbie briefly glances at some movement in her peripheral vision. "Because you actually were before you became reformed?"

Lou blinks. "Alright, that's fair," she shrugs one shoulder. "Actually, no, because being a player suggests lying and taking advantage and leading someone on. I never did that; everyone I've ever been with knew exactly what they were getting into." She shakes her head, wincing a little at how this seems to be going wrong. "But I digress. What I meant was… You asked me _when_ I stopped, and I told you. What I didn't tell you was _why_."

"Why?" Debbie asks softly when Lou doesn't seem keen on continuing.

"I just kept seeing you. In all of them. But when I looked closer, it wasn't you at all and…" She takes a deep breath, licking her lips. "I wanted it to be you."

"I'm here now, baby. Just say yes."

"We're not even actually _together_," Lou says, seeming to have realized that little fact just now. "Isn't all this a bit drastic?"

"I know. But haven't we wasted enough time pining after each other?" Debbie asks and is relieved when Lou tilts her head and agrees. "Our friends have started a betting pool on when we'll get together. Our brothers and the rest of our...found families already gave us their blessing. Sort of. Not that we need it but it's always nice to feel their support. But more importantly, we already live together and we've planned our lives together. The only real difference I can think of is the sex and we already know it's _amazing_."

Lou concedes to all Debbie's points but she shakes her head slowly, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "I'm scared," she whispers, so soft Debbie barely hears it.

Debbie's smile is small but genuine and soft and _so in love. _"Me too. But what scares me even more is not being there for you when you need me. And not making you happy. And, more importantly, not spending the rest of my life with you. Ocean, waves, sand, and shore, baby. Always."

The reminder makes Lou smile a little. And if it were any other day, Lou would tease her for being a giant sap but not today. Because today—

"I've been in love with you for so long, Deb, but it's all been in secret or from a distance." She pauses, chewing on her bottom lip, still hesitant. "I'm not sure I know how to do this."

"Neither do I." Debbie's unsure how she's keeping such a calm facade here; that revelation just had her heart beating a mile a minute. "You don't have to say yes to marriage, Lou. Or even to a relationship." Lou frowns in confusion. "We don't need to fit into a mold. Just say yes to me, to _us. _Just tell me you want this because Tammy told me that more than one thing can make me happy. But I realized that she was wrong. Because _you _make me happy, Lou. _You_. Everything else just follows." She pauses, clearing her throat after her voice nearly cracked. "I want this more than anything. And I want it with you."

Well, that's that.

A lone tear rolls down Lou's cheek when she drops down on her knees in front of Debbie and kisses her fiercely, whispering the sweetest "yes" in between kisses, oblivious about the fact that cameras were rolling as cheers and applause were resounding.

Debbie pulls away, just enough that their lips still brush when she speaks. "Just so we're clear, that's a yes to what exactly?"

"Everything. I want everything with you."

Debbie's smile is blinding and it matches Lou's. She gently pulls away again so she could slip the ring on Lou's finger. "It looks perfect on you, baby."

Lou rolls her eyes and then a thought occurs to her. "How long have you had this?"

"Got the diamond in May – a blue one too, to match your eyes and my name. I've been carrying it around ever since." Debbie looks intensely into Lou's eyes and then it hits Lou.

_"__Honey, is this a proposal?"_

_"__Baby, I don't have a diamond yet."_

Yet.

"Those five years, eight months, and twelve days spent planning were leading to this. It was just a matter of timing and execution but ever since news came out that this is legal, I knew I was always going to end up here: on one knee, asking you to marry me."

Lou starts feeling overwhelmed with emotion but then she looks Debbie up and down quickly and toys with the string of her bikini beneath the sundress. "Where'd you hide it?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Debbie winks before throwing her arms around Lou's neck and kissing her hard. Just because she wants to. Just because she can. Just because nothing in this world matters more to her than this woman – her partner, her lover, her fiancée, and, soon, her wife.

**-x-**

The next morning, their little scene makes headlines. Among them is a statement from one Rose Weil, where, during an interview taken on the same night of the proposal, she announced her desire and willingness to dress both brides for their wedding.

_"__Why? Well, darling, the answer to that is simple: Love is love. And I heard theirs was nearly two decades in the making. With a story like that, I don't need to know them to celebrate them. Plus, did you see them at the party? Elegant and eccentric! On a beach!"_

"Nicely done, Rose." Tammy says, surprised from her seat on the couch in Daphne's living room where the rest of the girls decided to hang out, awaiting the news of their friends' engagement.

"_HAROLD, THEY'RE LESBIANS!_" reads a headline and it has Constance cackling at the reference, especially since that headline was from the same tabloid that initiated the mistress angle in the first place.

"Oh my god! Wedding bells! It's like Paris all over again, but with more love in the air!" Amita had exclaimed upon bursting through the doors of the house last night. And now, upon seeing the news on TV, she says, "I've known about the ring for _months _but seeing how it actually happened just then… I'm gonna cry!"

"Again?" Constance asks, not bothering to hide the judgment in her expression.

"Leave it to these two to make front page news after trying so hard to keep Lou's face out of the public eye," Nine Ball shakes her head.

Daphne rolls her eyes but she's smiling when she complains, "And stealing my spotlight."

"You're cool but, like, lesbian love trumps lesbian fragrance any day, yo."

"Especially if said lesbian love took only about two decades to finally come together," Tammy reminds them. She had spent most of their breakfast sharing her observations of the couple back when they were all young and green, running jobs together. And to her utter satisfaction, they were all facepalming at how obvious and oblivious the two women were even back then.

But then Constance lifts her head from the table. "Hehe, _come_ together."

"Mind out of the gutter, Constance!"

"Yeah, I can't believe I said that about Mom and Dad." Constance shudders. "Gotta admit, they're both a smoke-show. But I think I just scarred myself for life."

"I never got to ask, how did this whole mom and dad thing start?" Daphne asks. "When I first got to the loft, it was already in place."

_#_

_Lou spots a familiar head by the bar of her club. She had just read Debbie's text that night about seeing each other for the first time in nearly six years at the cemetery. Their reunion, and Lou can feel the sudden onslaught of adrenalin threatening to burst out._

_"__Shouldn't you be, I don't know, not here or inside any other club?"_

_"__I'm 20, leave me alone. 'Sides, my being here shouldn't be held against me but against _your_ staff."_

_"__Oh, look, Eli served you the only thing you're legally allowed to drink." Lou teases, eyeing the glass of milk in front of the younger woman._

_"__Oh, this? I _ordered _it, lawful citizen that I am." She says, feeling quite proud of herself and it has Lou fighting a smile as she shakes her head. "You know, in, like, the five minutes since you sat down, I've noticed at least three women and a clueless, hopeless man eyeing you. So, what's stopping you?" When Lou just shrugs, she continues, "Doesn't make sense. I pegged you as, like, a player or something. Different woman on your arm every night."_

_"__Maybe I was."_

_"__Was?"_

_"__Why, are _you_ applying?" Constance sputters, almost spitting all the milk she just drank out through her nose. "Sorry, kiddo, you're beautiful and I do so enjoy your eccentricity and your energy but, you are way below the age bracket I normally go for."_

_"__What, you don't wanna be a Sugar Mommy?" At Lou's murderous look, she recants, "...Daddy?"_

_Lou's brow rises before she narrows her eyes at the young girl. "No."_

_"__Ooh, you like the idea, don't you? Definitely not for me 'cause that'd be, like, incest or some shit. But for _someone_." Lou just hums and Constance stares at her, eyes squinting. "I'll find out soon enough, Lou. I'm nosy," she warns, touching a finger to her nose for emphasis._

_Lou just snorts. A few seconds later, however, she mutters, "Love is for children." She was aiming for indifferent but it came out bitter and Constance's eyebrows almost disappear into her hairline._

_"__I never said anything about love but alright, alright." She quickly taps on the table between them five times. "Who—"_

_"__No one," Lou cuts her off, rather sharply._

_Constance raises her hands in surrender. "Ayt, chill! We cool, we cool."_

_When she sees Lou emerging from the subway the next morning, she isn't alone. She's walking, elbows brushing with another differently styled yet equally stylish woman. And all Constance could think of was, "'No one', my ass," quickly followed by, "HOLY SHIT, I HAVE A MOM!"_

_#_

Lou's standing in front of the mirror, fixing her tie for the nth time to keep from fidgeting in place.

"Hello, it's me, your best man," Harry says without preamble as he enters the room, dropping his heavy hands on her shoulders and smiling at Lou through the mirror.

"Yes, Bub, everyone knows you're the best man." Lou fondly rolls her eyes.

"Of course, it's me. Who else do you love the most in this world? No one."

Sal, who's watching them adoringly from her perch on Lou's bed, replies, "Honey, Lou's getting married. To _Debbie._"

Harry's brows furrow and he almost pouts. "Yeah, but I'm still her favorite."

"Without a doubt," Lou says, indulging him only because the sight of his beaming smile always melts her heart.

"Perfect," he exclaims. "Like you are. Debbie wouldn't know what hit her." He kisses her on her temple before Sal ushers him out of the room with a note to help Tammy make sure everything's in place.

Lou runs her hands down the front of her white tux, admiring the fabric, the texture, and the fit of the beauty that Rose had created for her. Everything about it was perfect and the design certainly screamed Lou Miller to anyone who even remotely knows her.

After the whole media craze about their engagement and the subsequent public announcement by Rose with regard to what they'll be wearing to their wedding, Rose had actually asked to meet with them formally, once individually and once as a couple, without the distraction of the rest of their crew. They both expected the meetings to be solely about their outfits but much to their surprise, the topic was never brought up. It wasn't until a little over a month later that she'd called on each of them separately for a fitting.

And as cheesy as it sounds, the suit she has donned for this momentous occasion just proves that Rose has truly captured not only _her _but also what this milestone means to her. She only hopes that Debbie feels the same way about whatever dress Rose had ended up designing for her.

A knock resounds on the open door of her room and she looks up to see Constance smiling smugly as she teasingly reminds Lou of a conversation they had before. "All this," she pauses, gesturing at the loft as a whole – decorated all over, both on the inside and out on the rocky seaside, with whatever wedding paraphernalia Tammy and Daphne had thought of. "From the woman who said love was for children?"

Lou meets Constance's eyes through the mirror before she shifts her gaze to stare at her own. She's finally marrying the love of her life today. Surrounded by Sal, Harry, and the twins, all the girls, Yen, Reuben, Rusty, and someone else she'd managed to track down a week ago that she knows Debbie will either kill or kiss her senseless for, maybe both… Her found family, her family of_ choice_.

She really can't defend her past self for having said such a thing so instead of trying, she simply smiles. "Well, I _am_ a child at heart."

Make-up be damned, Constance aggressively rubs at her eyes like a child – Lou's seen the twins do it enough times in a way that reminds her of Harry as a toddler – while claiming there was a twig stuck in one of them.

Lou's laughter carries over to the joint bathroom in between hers and Debbie's rooms—which, for once, is locked to keep with the tradition of not seeing the bride and the...bride, well, each other—where Debbie's putting on the finishing touches to her hair. When she exits to her room, she finds a note on her bed that wasn't there when she'd entered the bathroom.

"_I hear congratulations are in order._" The words are written in a familiar scrawl.

"What?" Debbie asks herself then shakes her head, trying to make sure this isn't a trick of her nerves.

But then from behind her, a throat clears followed by Danny's familiar deep baritone. "Congratulations."

Debbie freezes for what might have been a second, a minute, a _lifetime _before she turns on her spot, tears pooling in her eyes. "I'M GONNA _KILL _YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

* * *

_A/N: Forever by your side._

_May the fourth be with you. Always._


End file.
